


Latrunculus

by Allura99



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:41:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 22,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26168050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allura99/pseuds/Allura99
Summary: An escaped enemy. An ancient curse. One life changed forever. AU after Book 6.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

Ron Weasley glared at the largest stack of parchment on his desk. No matter how hard he worked the stack never seemed to grow any smaller. He half-wondered if someone had hexed it as some kind of prank. But this would be too subtle for Seamus, he decided. He took the topmost one, reviewed it, signed it, put it in another pile, and went on with the next sheet.

He had never imagined that being an Auror would require so much paperwork. Sure he still went on missions and captured dark wizards. He still loved that part of his work. Yet there was always a stack of forms waiting for him whenever he returned.

He didn’t know how long he had been working when Seamus suddenly threw open his office door. He happily forgot his paperwork as he faced his second-in-command. Ron felt the first inklings of dread and, if he was honest, fear as the other man seemed to struggle for what to say. “Seamus?”

“Malfoy’s escaped.”

“What!”

“Draco Malfoy has escaped from Azkaban.”

Several emotions washed through Ron as he tried to digest the news. “When?”

“We don’t know. His mother was found in his cell. Apparently she had finally run out of polyjuice potion. He could have been gone for months.”

“Just like Barty Crouch,” Ron muttered.

Seamus nodded. “We’ve already sent Aurors to guard Malfoy’s likely targets. Tonks is at the Burrow until Harry arrives.”

Something in Seamus’ eyes made Ron’s stomach tightened in worry. “But?”

“No one can find Hermione Granger.”

Ron rose to his feet, grabbing his cloak. Seamus followed him down the hall, running to keep up with Ron’s longer stride. He quickly told the red-haired man that Hermione had already left her office for the day but she hadn’t gone home. No one knew where she was.

The date suddenly hit Ron. “I have an idea of where she’ll be, but keep men posted at her house. That bastard’s not going to get her, understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

As soon as he was outside of the wards, Ron disappeared with a resounding pop.

* * * * *

It was a shame that he wouldn’t have time to fully execute his carefully drawn-out plan. Draco had been working on it for months, ever since his dear mother proposed taking his place in prison. He knew that revenge could advertise his escape but he couldn’t let Potter and his friends escape without punishment.

But the news of the discovery of his mother had changed everything. Once again she failed. Like she had failed the Dark Lord. Like she had failed his father.

The Aurors would be searching for him in force. He would need to leave Britain quickly if he wished to continue to enjoy freedom. However, he couldn’t leave without telling one person goodbye. He needed to leave his mark, so to speak, before his exile.

He waited behind the trees. He knew this spot well, almost as well as his intended prey. For some it was a place of grief and sadness. For Draco, it was the reminder of his greatest triumph.

A thrill ran through him as the person finally appeared.

* * * * *

Hermione placed the flowers on each of the graves. Her mother had always loved lilies and she had been fortunate to find some at a Muggle florist. She didn’t think her father would mind what flowers she brought.

She hastily wiped her eyes. After all these years, all it took was this day and this place for her to breakdown. But she supposed one never did over the death of parents.

She didn’t know how long she stood there staring at the cold, snow-covered stone. At times, it was still hard to believe. “I love you and miss you both so much,” she said quietly.

“How touching,” a voice sneered.

Hermione whirled around. She was reaching for her wand as she came face to face with one. It took her a moment to look to the person holding it.

Draco Malfoy.

“I’ve been waiting a long time for this, Mudblood.”

A tear spilled down her cheek. She would never get to see Harry’s and Ginny’s baby. She would never spend another Christmas at the Burrow. She would never get to tell Ron all that she felt for him.

“No final words?” Draco asked.

“Would it make any difference?”

“No,” he admitted, “but it would have been fun to have you beg.”

She thought she heard a pop. She quickly dismissed it as false hope. She had escaped death too many times by now. Her time was up.

“Hermione!”

She turned in spite of herself. “Ron?”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Draco’s wand move as he made an incantation. Suddenly dark magic hit her. She screamed as it burned and spread from her chest to the rest of her body. Finally, the darkness took her.


	2. Chapter 2

It was his worst nightmare come true. Draco had his wand pointed at a wandless Hermione. He was too far away to do anything.

He called her name. She was turning toward him. Draco’s lips moved and light erupted from his wand. The light briefly blinded him but he could clearly hear Hermione’s scream.

The light soon faded. Hermione was sprawled on the ground, not moving. Draco flashed a triumphant smirk in his direction. Before Ron could even begin a single curse, the other man was gone.

All thoughts of Draco Malfoy vanished with him as Ron immediately shifted his focus to Hermione. He begged her to open her eyes as he checked her for any obvious injuries. She was so still that she was barely breathing.

He tried to dampen the rush of emotions going through him. His Auror training helped. But this was Hermione, his Hermione.

Begging her to stay with him, he swept her up into his arms. He prayed he could get them to St. Mungo’s in one piece.

* * * * *

The sudden arrival of Auror Ronald Weasley with an unconscious Hermione Granger in the main lobby of St. Mungo’s caused quite a commotion. The formerly unflappable receptionist stared at them with wide eyes. Then she fumbled with something on her desk.

An older mediwizard suddenly appeared. “What happened?”

“She was cursed. I don’t which spell.”

“And she has been unconscious the whole time?”

Ron nodded. “But it just happened.”

“Did you see the wand light that hit her? What color was it?”

“Red. Deep red. Almost burgundy.” Ron knew that he would have nightmares about that damn light for months, if not years.

The other wizard made a move to take Hermione from Ron. Ron hesitated a moment before relenting. “We’ll do all we can, Mr. Weasley. Someone will come as soon as you can see her.”

Ron could only watch as Hermione was taken away. Then all the emotions he had been holding back hit him. He wanted to weep. He wanted to scream. He wanted to tear something, anything to shreds with his bare hands.

But he held himself in check. There would be time for that later. He had business to do.

He used one of the hospital owls to send a message to Harry and his family. He knew that they would come and keep watch over Hermione. He just hoped that they would understand his absence.

As soon as the owl was off, he vanished with a crack.

* * * * *

Ginny Potter kept one hand on her wand as the other rested protectively over her swollen abdomen. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“Ginny, relax,” Harry said gently, covering the hand on her stomach with his. “All this worrying can’t be good for the baby.”

“But he’s out there,” she protested, eyes flicking to the windows of her parents’ living room. “Who knows for how long! And no one can find Hermione. What if he’s gotten to her?”

“Shh. Hermione’s a grown witch and more than capable of taking herself. I almost pity Malfoy if he decides to tangle with her.”

She, in spite of herself, smiled along with him. “Liar.”

He chuckled and kissed her. “I wish I had come home under better circumstances.”

“I’m just glad you’re home. I can’t imagine going through this if you had been away for a match.”

“I would have come straight home,” he assured her. “A pack of hippogriffs wouldn’t have kept me away.”

Mrs. Weasley came in, carrying a tray for tea. In that moment, Ginny never loved her mother more. The world was once again filled with danger against her and her family and her mother was still doing normal things like preparing tea.

Mrs. Weasley settled herself across the couple and began to pour the tea. “So, Harry, dear, how long are you home?”

“Originally only for four days,” he answered and he helped himself to a biscuit. “But I’ll be staying until this thing with Malfoy is finished.”

“But that could be a long time, Harry,” Ginny protested, “and the team-”

“Can play just fine without me,” he finished. “Gillian’s a good seeker. After everyone sees her in action, they might not want me back.”

Ginny gave a snort of disbelief, making her husband and her mother smile.

“Harry’s going to have to take paternity leave soon, Ginny,” Mrs. Weasley added. “The baby will be here before you know it.”

“Not much longer,” Ginny said with a smile, caressing her abdomen.

“It will be nice to have a baby around the Burrow again,” Mrs. Weasley said.

Harry and Ginny exchanged a look and then laughed. Molly broke out of her thoughts and smiled. The three continued with tea. Afterwards, Mrs. Weasley went into the kitchen to wash while Harry convinced Ginny to have a nap in her old room.

He entered the kitchen to help his mother-in-law with the dishes only to find her staring at a bit of parchment. “Mrs. Weasley?”

She jerked her head up in surprise. She blinked several times as if she trying to banish tears. “Oh, Harry, this just arrived for you.”

Harry took the letter from the woman’s shaking hand as his stomach twisted in anxiety. Taking a deep breath, he tried to compose himself. He read Ron’s brief note.

“What does it say?”

Harry met Mrs. Weasley’s worried eyes. “Malfoy found Hermione and she is now at St. Mungo’s. She’s . . . she’s unconscious.”

Mrs. Weasley sank into a chair. “Oh, Merlin help us.”

“Ron wants us to go to St. Mungo’s. I’d better go and wake Ginny.”

Mrs. Weasley nodded. “I’ll send a note to Arthur and then I’ll be ready to go with you.”

“Okay.” Harry raced up the stairs to Ginny’s room. He wondered how his wife would take the news of what had happened to one of their best friends.

* * * * *

The mediwitch eyed them skeptically when they arrived outside Hermione’s room. “And just who are you?”

“We’re her family,” Ginny said in a cold voice. “Can we see her?”

The mediwitch looked them over again and her eyes fell on Harry’s scar. Her eyes widen in recognition. “Oh, of course.”

She opened the door of the room. Hermione appeared to be sleeping in the bed. “We haven’t quite figured out which curse was used on her, but we have narrowed it down. We hope to have the answer and thus a cure soon.”

“Where’s Ron?” Harry asked, noting his friend’s absence.

“He left shortly after bringing her in. I’m sure he’ll be back shortly. Now, I have other patients to tend to.”

The mediwitch had just turned around the corner when Ginny gasped. “Harry, I know where he went. You have to get to the Aurors’ office. Ron’s going to go after Malfoy.”

“Good,” Harry growled, looking at Hermione, “let him.”

“You don’t understand,” Ginny protested, her voice panicked. “Imagine what Ron will do if he gets to Malfoy. He’ll be sent to Azkaban for sure.”

Harry immediately knew she was right. As much satisfaction he would get from Ron’s revenge on Malfoy, it wouldn’t be worth his best friend going to Azkaban. “I’ll go. Will you be here when I get back?”

Ginny nodded. “I love you.”

“Love you,” he said, giving her a quick, hard kiss. As soon as he released her, he was gone.

“Come on, Ginny,” Mrs. Weasley said, herding her daughter towards a chair. “You need to rest. All this excitement isn’t good for the baby.”

People kept telling her that, Ginny thought with annoyance. However, she obediently sat down. She and her mother began their vigil.


	3. Chapter 3

Seamus Finnigan had gone to Hogwarts and had been a Gryffindor along aside Ron Weasley. So the Irishman had seen some of Ron’s famous temper firsthand. However, he was unprepared for the walking wall of fury that greeted him now.

“Weasley, did you find her?”

If it was possible, Ron appeared to become even angrier. “Call for a meeting to begin in ten minutes.”

“What about the men at Hermione’s house?”

“Call them back,” Ron replied in a dead voice. “She’s in St. Mungo’s.”

Understanding suddenly hit Seamus as Ron stalked into his office and slammed the door. He quickly set off to follow the squad leader’s orders. He also felt that some other people needed to know about this.

* * * * *

Ron went methodically through his mission bag. It was his right as squad leader to lead this operation and he was damn well going to take it. There was no way he was going to let Malfoy get away.

He was making sure that the potions in his medkit were fresh when the door of his office was thrown open. Annoyed, he glanced up to see Harry standing in the door. “Aren’t you supposed to be at St. Mungo’s?”

“Aren’t you?” Harry countered.

Ron shrugged. “Something came up at work.”

“Ron, don’t do this.”

“Do what? My job? A little late for that, mate.”

“Your job doesn’t sanction murder.” Harry fought to keep his voice calm. “Try to justify this all you want, Ron, but what you’re planning is still murder. Do you think Hermione’s going to approve?”

“Thanks to him, Hermione doesn’t have anything to say right now.”

“Malfoy’s not worth it, Ron.”

“She is,” Ron said quietly. He closed his mission bag with quick movements. He slung it over his shoulder and grabbed his cloak. “I have a meeting.”

Harry stepped between Ron and the door. “Please, Ron.”

“Harry.” The Auror paused, having some kind of internal debate. Suddenly, Ron’s face hardened again. Harry felt his flicker of hope die. “I have to go.”

With that, he brushed past his friend and left the office.

* * * * *

“You can come back in now,” the aide said.

Ginny followed her mother back into Hermione’s room. Her friend was now dressed in clean hospital robes. Another aide had finished adding a few drops of blood to a vial.

“Any changes?” Ginny asked, stopping the aides from leaving the room. Both shook their heads. “Any idea about which curse was used?”

“As soon as we know something, Mrs. Potter, we’ll let you know.”

Mrs. Weasley glanced across the room from Hermione’s bed. “Ginny, dear, let them do their work.”

Ginny obediently moved aside to let the aides pass. She joined her mother as they resumed their bedside vigil. She hoped that Harry had been successful.

* * * * *

Seamus met Ron just outside the conference room. He was about to ask his second-in-commander if everyone was present when he noted the presence of Kingsley Shacklebolt. A glance from his superior to Seamus confirmed Ron’s suspicions.

“Weasley,” Shackleblot greeted.

Ron gave a nod. “Shacklebolt.”

“Finnigan tells me that you’re regrouping your squad to focus on the manhunt for Draco Malfoy.”

“That is correct, sir. I can’t think of anything with higher priority.”

“Agreed. However, you will not be leading this mission, Weasley.”

“Sir, I’m the leader of this squad. I have the right to lead this mission.”

“Not this mission. This one is too personal, and I will not have a rogue Auror out there.” The older man turned to Seamus. “Finnigan, you’re leader for this one. Go prepare your men.”

Seamus had the decency to look surprised before complying with Shacklebolt’s order. If Ron was being fair, he knew that Seamus was capable of leading. However, Ron was far beyond being fair.

“Am I being fired or merely demoted?” Ron demanded, fighting to keep his volume reasonable.

“Neither. You’re on leave, Weasley, as of now. I don’t want to even hear of you coming near this office until you receive an owl from me.”

“Sir, I can contribute to this mission.”

Shacklebolt gave him an understanding smile. “I know you can, Ron, but you can be a liability, too. I can’t take that chance.”

Ron soon found himself staring at the closed door of the meeting room. He released a deep breath. Part of him wanted to go in there and force his way onto the mission, but another part of him realized that Shacklebolt had a point.

“What to do?” he murmured.

“Go to St. Mungo’s with me.”

Ron realized that he wasn’t surprised that Harry was still there. He gave the closed door one last look before turning to Harry. “Okay.”


	4. Chapter 4

Ginny glanced at the door and broke into a huge relieved smile when she saw her husband and her brother in the doorway. She moved as quickly as her pregnant body would allow. Her mother wasn’t far behind her.

She hugged Harry and gave him a through kiss. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ron grimace at them while their mother hugged him. She almost wanted to laugh. Even after all this time, Ron still had problems with the idea of his little sister being with a boy. It probably didn’t help that it was his best mate.

“Thank you, Harry,” she whispered.

He shook his head. “It was Shacklebolt.”

“Oh.”

“Any news?”

It was Ginny’s turn to shake her head. “They promise to let know us as soon as they learn something.”

She stepped away from her husband and turned to her brother. The siblings hugged. Ginny whispered something in his ear, and Ron hugged her tighter.

Mrs. Weasley ushered them all into chairs. When Ron took the one closest to Hermione, no one made any comment. Mrs. Weasley left them alone and went to find some tea.

Harry and Ginny tried to strike up a conversation but each attempt failed. They eventually just held hands, occasionally whispering to each other. Ron watched Hermione breathe.

They were still that way when Mrs. Weasley arrived with tea. Ron merely held a cup while the others conversed. He barely acknowledged his father when he arrived.

The hours ticked by. Various people dropped in, but thankfully it was mainly healers and various specialists. Apparently word of the attack hadn’t gotten out yet.

His parents were the first to leave. Harry and Ginny lingered though Ron realized that Ginny was exhausted. It couldn’t be good for the baby.

“You two go home,” Ron said, breaking the silence. “I’ll stay with her.”

Ginny exchanged a look with her husband. “Ron, are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he replied, forcing a smile. “It’s not like I have work in the morning since I’m on leave. If anything happens, I’ll let you know.”

“Thanks, mate.” Harry helped his wife out of her chair. Ginny gave her brother a hug and a kiss on the cheek. She then went to Hermione. Harry and Ron watched as she whispered something in the other woman’s ear.

“We’ll be back in the morning,” Ginny said, taking Harry’s hand.

Ron’s smile faded as soon as the couple left the room. It was just him with Hermione now. The only sound in the room was her even breathing.

He pulled his chair closer to her bed. She was dressed in a hospital robe, which made her seem smaller somehow. He never realized how small Hermione actually was compared to him.

Ron picked up her hand, cradling it gently in his. It looked so delicate. As he rubbed it, he noted the calluses. They were probably the result of her work for the Ministry. He realized he liked them.

Taking a deep breath, he studied her face. Her hair was still a bit wild. It was fanned out, forming a curly brown halo around her head. He ran his free hand through it. It was as soft as he had imagined.

Realizing what he was doing, he removed his hand from her hair. However, he couldn’t release her hand. He needed to keep some physical connection to her.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “If I had gotten there sooner, if I had realized what today was, if I had gone to the cemetery with you, this wouldn’t have happened to you.”

He sighed. “Why didn’t you remind me? Did you not want me there? Didn’t know that all you had to do was ask and I would be there? I’d do anything for you, Hermione.”

The admission startled him. But he knew it was true. Despite the years and distance between them, he still cared for her. He cared a lot more than he should.

He continued to talk to her but veered to safer topics. He discussed his family, particularly the twins’ continued success and Ginny’s baby. He mentioned classmates he had bumped into recently and what they were doing now. He told Seamus would likely propose to Lavender soon.

The mention of Seamus led him to work. He talked about how it was to be an Auror and a squad leader. How he loved to capture bad witches and wizards and how he hated the paperwork. The places he had visited in the course of his work.

He stayed away from his dating life. The main reason was that he didn’t have one. But also, he and Hermione avoided talking about this part of their lives, especially after the events of their sixth year at Hogwarts.

He quickly switched the topic to Quidditch. He again lamented the fact that Harry hadn’t been drafted by the Cannons. In fact, his mate had helped decimate the Cannons soundly at the last match. Ron joked that he almost felt betrayed.

He kept babbling. He didn’t know how long he talked or all of what he talked about. He just kept going, hoping that something he said would wake her up. He was still holding her hand when he surrendered to sleep.

* * * * *

There was a buzzing in her ear, annoying her as it pulled her towards consciousness. Her hand fumbled around for the clock. Then she realized that she hadn’t owned a Muggle alarm clock in years.

She opened her eyes to see the sleeping face of Ron Weasley. Hermione quickly withdrew her hand from the top of his head. Why on earth was he here?

Her movement must awaken him because she found herself becoming lost in his wonderful blue eyes. He whispered her name, reaching out to touch her. He pulled his hand back as if scalded and asked her how she was feeling.

She replied she was feeling fine. Ron gave her a relieved smile and announced he had to find a healer. A healer? But he was already gone.

As she sat up in bed, Hermione realized that she was dressed in a hospital robe. Dread curled in her stomach. She clutched the blankets to her chest, trying to control her breathing.

“Why in the bloody hell am I in St. Mungo’s?” she wondered.


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione tried to remain patient. “I’m Hermione Jane Granger.” She gave them her birthday and her position in the Ministry of Magic. She named the current Minister of Magic and even added the current Muggle Prime Minister for good measure.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Harry trying to fight a smile. Well, she was glad someone found this amusing. Ever since she had awakened, she had beleaguered with constant exams, tests, and rounds of questions.

And no one would answer hers. Each time she asked about the curse used on her, the healer would defer to someone else. It was driving her mad.

Ron appeared in the doorway, drawing her attention. “I need to speak with Ms. Granger privately.”

The mediwizard frowned in annoyance. “Can’t it wait?”

“Official Auror business,” Ron replied.

With a huff, the mediwizard left with his assistant. Harry exchanged a look with his friend before escorting Ginny out. Ron closed the door and took a seat beside Hermione’s bed.

“I just received an owl from Seamus,” he said. “They’re still trying to catch Malfoy. They think that he’s fled to Eastern Europe, possibly Romania or Bulgaria.”

“Will they catch him?”

Ron took a deep breath. “I don’t know. The longer he is free the less likely it is to happen.”

“Finally, an honest answer,” she said, giving him a half-hearted smile.

“Not having much luck with the healers?”

“I would even accept that they don’t know right now as an answer. But they won’t even to admit to that. They just keep deferring to each other. No one is saying anything!”

“Maybe Malfoy’s spell didn’t do anything.”

“I wish I could believe that, Ron,” she said quietly, “but it would be unlike him to waste his chance for vengeance. He had plenty of time to plan it.”

He knew that she was right. And it would be just like Malfoy to use a slow-acting curse. The healers’ confusion let them know that it wasn’t a common curse.

“What I wouldn’t give for the Hogwarts library right now,” she muttered as she collapsed against her pillow. “If I was researching at least I would be doing something.”

“What books would you need?”

Hermione sat back up to stare at him. “What?”

“What books do you think you’ll need?” He smiled. “Oh, come on, Hermione. You know you’re clever. It would be just like you to figure this out before the healers.”

She flushed at his confidence in her. It meant a lot to her, she realized. She quickly composed herself and gave him a list of books.

“I’ll owl McGonagall and see if the Hogwarts library can loan the books. I’m sure she will. After all, you were her favorite student.”

Again, Hermione flushed. Then something dawned on her. “There wasn’t any official Auror business, was there, Ron?”

“Not really,” he admitted with a grin. “I thought that you would want to know what Seamus told me. Besides, I think you needed a break from the healers.”

“My hero,” she said, somewhat teasing him.

It was his turn to flush. “I’ll get this list off and send Harry and Ginny back in.”

“Thank you, Ron.”

He turned from the door and gave her a look. She wished that she could read the emotion in his eyes. And just like that, it was gone. “You’re welcome.”

He closed the door quietly behind him. Hermione once more fell back against her pillow. She realized that she may never get over Ron Weasley.

* * * * *

The healers seemed offended when they found her surrounded by books that afternoon. They told her that they had not found a spell that fit her circumstances. In fact, she appeared unharmed.

Frustrated, Hermione asked to be released. But the healers protested. They wanted more tests and would not feel safe discharging her for another couple of days. That was if she showed no symptoms.

“Hermione, dear,” Mrs. Weasley said, “it’s only a few more days. Besides, you could use the rest. You’ve become much too thin.”

The younger woman fought to keep her temper in check. Mrs. Weasley didn’t deserve her anger. “I’m fine. They have said it themselves. If I began to have symptoms, I could always come back.”

“But you live alone, dear. If something happened, no one would know for hours.”

Hermione pressed her lips together in annoyance. Mrs. Weasley did have a point. But honestly, how likely was something like that to happen?

“If I may make a suggestion,” Mr. Weasley said. “Why doesn’t Hermione spend a few days with us? She would be out of the hospital but wouldn’t be alone.”

“Why, Arthur, that’s a lovely idea!” Mrs. Weasley cried. She turned to Hermione. “What do you say, dear? Care to spend some time at the Burrow?”

She looked at their expectant faces and realized that she couldn’t say no. And it was a good solution. “Okay.”

“Wonderful, I’ll speak to the healers about starting on your release,” Mr. Weasley.

Mrs. Weasley beamed at him before turning back to Hermione. “I’ll send Ginny over to your flat to pick up a few things. Anything in particular you’ll want?”

Hermione found herself making a list for Ginny, including a reminder to feed her cat. She and Mrs. Weasley were gathering up her books when a mediwitch entered. She told Hermione that she would be ready for release by that evening.

She was surprised when Ron arrived. When Mrs. Weasley thanked him and told them that she would see them at the Burrow, it made sense. “So, you’re my escort?”

“At your service,” he said with a bow. He took his usual chair by her bed and eyed the stack of books. “Find anything out.”

“Not really,” she admitted. “Some like Exsanguinatus take effect immediately. If he had used something like Deludere or Quiesco, I would have never woken up.”

It chilled him to think that she could have never woken up. It was worse when he thought that she could have been killed instantly. It all reminded him of how close he came to losing her.

“Maybe the healers were right,” she conceded. “Maybe I just got lucky.”

“Yeah,” he murmured.

They chatted about various things. When the healer announced that Hermione was free to go, they were both more than ready. He carried her things as they made their way to the apparation point.

“See you at the Burrow,” he said, allowing her to go first.

She nodded and stepped forward. She concentrated on her destination. After a moment, she turned around.

Instead of arriving at the Burrow, she was facing Ron. She was still in St. Mungo’s. Nothing had happened.

“Hermione?” Ron stepped toward her, hoping that nothing was wrong. However, as he saw the tears in her eyes, his gut twisted.

“Oh, Ron, I can’t apparate!”

“Hermione, just calm down. Just try again.”

She nodded. She took a deep breath as she stepped back. She closed her eyes, forehead creased in concentration.

Again, nothing happened. She pulled out her wand. She was so wound up, she was shaking.

“Wingardium Leviosa!”

The bag slowly lifted and hovered about a foot off the floor. Hermione raised her wand higher. The bag wobbled and then crashed to the floor.

She moved to point her wand at the bag again. But Ron grabbed her wrist. “Hermione?”

Tears slipped down her cheeks as she looked at him. “I know what curse he used, Ron. I know what he did to me.”

She threw herself at him, sobbing into his chest. He held her tightly to him. He tried to murmur reassuring words but it only made her sob harder.

“It’s not going to get better,” she protested, her voice muffled by his now damp shirt. “It will only get worse.”


	6. Chapter 6

She had refused to tell him her suspicions. Instead, Hermione insisted that Ron contact Harry and Ginny as well as his parents and have them come back to St. Mungo’s. It had him seeing red.

When he opened his mouth to argue more, she almost burst into tears again. “Ron, please,” she begged, her voice threatening to crack. “I only want to have to say this once but I need to know that I’m right first. That means I have to talk to the healers.”

“Okay,” he muttered, “but I don’t like this, Hermione.”

“I know.” She attempted a smile but it failed miserably. “Thank you, Ron.”

He watched her as she walked away. Despite all the things they had been through, through all the dark times they faced, he had never seen her look so defeated. It was unnerving.

‘We don’t know anything yet,’ he reminded himself. He forced himself to stand up straight as he tried to get his thoughts in order. He sent the messages and waited for his family to arrive.

* * * * *

Ron grudgingly waited outside the door of Hermione’s room. As he expected, Harry and Ginny were the first to arrive. He hoped that his parents wouldn’t be long.

“What’s this all about, mate?” Harry demanded. “Hermione’s found out what curse Malfoy used?”

“She thinks so,” he muttered.

“So, what is it?” Ginny asked, her face anxious. “How bad is it?’

“I don’t know,” Ron replied, drawing gasps from the pair. “Hermione’s speaking to the healers now to make sure she’s right. She wants to tell us all at one time.”

Ginny clutched Harry’s hand. Ron noticed that Harry held her hand just as tightly. Not for the first time, Ron was jealous of what they had.

His parents then arrived. His mother’s faced was flushed and frantic. “Ron, what has happened? Is Hermione okay?”

“Hermione’s okay,” he said quickly, hoping that it wasn’t a lie. “She thinks she knows the curse used on her. As soon as she finishes talking to the healers, she’ll let us know.”

“Is it bad?” his father asked as he placed a gentle hand on his wife’s shoulder.

Ron shrugged. “I wish I knew.”

The door opened and one of the more senior mediwitches stepped out. She kept her face blank as she eyed the crowd. “She’s ready to see you now.”

Ron stepped aside to allow Harry, Ginny, and his parents into the room. His mother and Ginny took chairs with their husbands close beside them. Ron leaned against a wall near Hermione.

“Thank you for coming,” she said.

Mrs. Weasley blinked back tears. “Oh, Hermione, of course. You’re practically family.”

“That means a lot to me.”

Ron sighed. “Hermione, just get on with it.”

Ginny opened her mouth to yell at her insensitive prat of a brother. But she closed it when Hermione nodded. She took Harry’s hand as she settled back in her chair.

Hermione took a deep breath as she met their stares. “Draco used the Latrunculus curse on me.”

The room was silent for a moment. Finally Ron said, “Okay, so what is it?”

“The Latrunculus or robber curse is used to steal something from an enemy,” Hermione explained. “It’s an old curse. The healer said that according to their records it hasn’t been used in over three hundred years.”

“What does it steal?” Ginny asked.

“Usually it steals the victim’s life,” Hermione said quietly.

“What!” Ron demanded. She was dying? He had to have misheard her. There was no way that she could be dying. Was there?

“You said usually,” Harry said.

Hermione nodded. “The curse works slowly. It gradually takes until there is nothing left of what the curser wanted gone. But Draco didn’t use the curse to steal my life.”

Ron heaved a sigh of relief.

“He’s robbing me of my magic.”

“Your magic?” Ginny echoed. “How do you know?”

Everything clicked in Ron’s head before Hermione even began to explain. Her inability to go to the Burow. Her bag crashing to the floor. It all made sense.

“But it was just a couple of spells,” Harry protested.

“A couple of spells? Harry, it was Wingardium Leviosa. I was able to do it on the first try our first year.” Hermione’s voice took a hysterical edge. “Now I can barely lift a bag a foot off the floor.”

“And the healers?” Mr. Weasley asked.

“They agree with me.”

“But why?” Mrs. Weasley asked. “Why would he do such a thing?”

Ron knew. It was the worst thing he could take from Hermione after her parents. She had worked so hard to become a part of the wizarding world. This was his way of banishing her from it.

“His perfect revenge,” Hermione said, voicing his thoughts aloud. Her voice was calmer now, but that didn’t reassure him. “The healers don’t have a cure and don’t have much hope of finding one. They think I will be completely without magic in about a week. More or less.”

The room was silent as they tried to digest the information. Hermione was losing her magic. The healers didn’t have any hope of curing her.

“Well, what do they know!” Ron spat. Everyone looked at him as if he had lost his mind. “No, the healers, what do they know! Hermione was the one who figured the curse out. Not them. They don’t think they can find a cure. Fine, we will.”

“But Ron,” Mrs. Weasley began.

“No,” Mr. Weasley interjected. “He’s right. They’ve all made a name for themselves for doing the impossible. It would be just like them to do it again.”

“So when do we start?” Harry asked. “I’m sure there’s going to be research.”

“I swore I’d never set foot in a library after graduation,” Ron said with a groan. “I’m sure Hermione will come up with schedules and everything.”

“Well, at least we’ll be organized,” Ginny said, rolling her eyes at her brother. She shifted her attention to Hermione. “When do we start?”

Hermione ignored the tears running down her face as she gathered her friends into a group hug. She was glad that they were refusing to give up hope. She could face anything with them. “You guys are the best,” she murmured.


	7. Chapter 7

The next day found them in the Hogwarts library. The arrival of the Golden Trio with the equally famous Ginny Weasley-Potter caused some excitement. However, Madam Pince quickly ushered out most of the students.

The few who managed to escape the herding quickly resumed interests in their books. Or made to appear that way. Yet Ron could feel the stares boring into his back.

“Weird, isn’t it?” Ginny whispered.

He followed her line of vision. He exchanged looks briefly with a group of students before they quickly ducked back into their books. One girl was trying to put the Weasley blush to shame.

“You’d think people would be over it by now,” his sister continued. “I mean some of them probably don’t really remember the war.”

“Yeah,” Ron agreed. The students across the way seemed so young and so small. Had others seen him that way when he was their age?

He bit back a laugh as he realized they probably had. Had anyone during their first few years of school guessed what he and his friends would eventually accomplish? He doubted that few other than Albus Dumbledore had.

He was still amazed by people’s reaction to him and the others after the defeat of Voldemort. And that was before he became an Auror. It was still a bit much, even after all this time.

Realizing that he was wool-gathering, he reached for the next book. Ginny was fortunate to have a table of contents in hers. The siblings quickly fell back into their work. Harry and Hermione mirrored them across the table.

Much of their reading was not pleasant, making Ron glad that there were no students relatively close by. Their research had them delving into some of the darker texts of the restricted section. The illustrations weren’t helpful.

He didn’t know how long he had worked before his stomach rumbled. Harry’s stomach answered. Rolling her eyes, Ginny shut her book and announced that they were going to the kitchen.

Ron was already on his feet before he thought to glance back at Hermione. She was still absorbed in her book. He waved for Harry and Ginny to go on. Harry glanced from Ron to Hermione before smiling as he followed Ginny out.

“Hermione,” Ron said quietly, “time for a break.”

“Later,” she replied absently, eyes never drifting from the book.

“You have to eat some time,” he persisted.

“Later, Ron,” she hissed.

He was having none of that.

He plucked the quill out of her hand and set it on the table before lifting her bodily out of her chair. For a moment, he thought about slinging her over his shoulder and walking her out that way. It was very tempting.

She seemed to sense his thought. “Let go of me this instant, Ronald,” she said with surprising venom considering how low she was keeping her voice. “I’ll go with you to get something to eat, all right?”

He followed her out of the library. He thought that Madam Pince seemed amused as they walked by. However, when he glanced back, the expression was gone.

Hermione refused to speak to him as they made their way to the kitchen. He decided not to push the issue. He merely held the door open for her and followed her inside.

Harry and Ginny were already being mobbed by the house elves. Dobby was practically tripping over himself as he worked to serve the Great Harry Potter. The old elf nearly had an apoplexy when he saw that he and Hermione were there as well.

They kept the break short despite the overwhelming hospitality of the house elves. As soon as they were done eating, Ron could tell that Hermione was ready to head back to the library. He thanked Dobby and suggested they all get back to work.

Ginny let Harry pull her to her feet. She bade her brother and Hermione to head on. She claimed that she would only slow them down.

With a nod, Ron took Hermione’s arm and headed out of the kitchens. He suddenly became aware of the gesture and released her. He prayed that he wasn’t blushing.

She only eyed him for a moment before walking again. He followed. He wondered if she would resume her silent treatment on the way back to the library. Was she really that mad at him?

“We could have waited for Ginny,” she said. She didn’t look back at him or slow any.

Ron frowned as he caught up with her. He would not be talking to her back. “I thought you wanted to get back to the library quickly.”

“Well, I do,” she said, glancing at him, “but it was rude to just walk off and leave her.”

“It was her suggestion, Hermione.” He was confused, as he usually was where she was concerned. “And we didn’t exactly just leave Ginny. Harry’s with her.”

She managed a glare. “You have the emotional sensitivity of rock, Ron.”

“What!” He grabbed her arm, stopping her. “What brought this on!”

“Oh, never mind,” she huffed. She moved to free her arm but his grip held. “Let go.”

“No,” he said, fighting to keep the volume reasonable. “Why are you like this? What did I do to piss you off?”

“Language, Ron!”

“I think we’re allowed to say pissed off, Hermione.” But he wasn’t allowing her to change topics. “Now, why are you mad at me?”

“I’m not mad at you.”

“Could have fooled me. First, the silent treatment, and now I have the emotional sensitivity of a rock. Not exactly complementary.”

She sighed and her defensive posture relaxed slightly. “I’m sorry, Ron. I didn’t mean that. And I’m not mad at you.”

“Okay,” he said slowly, “so what is it?”

“It’s finally hitting me,” she confessed, averting her gaze. “I’ve been cursed. I may have only a few days of magic left. And we’re no closer to finding a counter-curse than when we started. It seems pretty hopeless.”

“Hey, don’t talk like that. We’ve only been at this a few hours and we still have a ton of books to go through.” He tipped her chin up so she would meet his face. “I’m not giving up on you, Hermione, and you’re not either.”

Tears welled in her eyes and he panicked. He never did do well handling a tearful Hermione. He grabbed her arm and headed up a staircase. “Come on, we have work to do.”

* * * * *

Harry went to grab the next book and stopped. He shook his head as he found Ginny asleep on top of the volume she was supposed to be reading. “I think I should get her home,” he said quietly. “Are you guys ready to go?”

Ron caught the flash of panic in Hermione’s eyes. “Nah, mate, you go ahead. I think I’ll finish this one at least.”

“I think I’ll stay, too,” Hermione said.

Harry didn’t seem surprised. “Just don’t forget to sleep at some point tonight. The books will still be here tomorrow.”

“Sure, Harry,” Hermione replied, her face already buried back in her book. The two men exchanged amused smiles.

Ron and Hermione continued working, slowly making their way through the various volumes. One book that Ron grabbed was the diary of a witch whose husband had been hit with the Latrunculus curse. She described in agonizing detail how the curse slowly drained the life from him until finally the man died.

Ron slammed the book close.

The noise caught Hermione’s attention and she glanced up at him with worried eyes. He managed a smile, which seemed to satisfy her as she went back to her work. He opened the next book. As he tried to read, he tried to banish the image of a slowly dying Hermione from his mind.

“Excuse me.” Both Ron and Hermione jumped at the voice. They turned to find Madam Pince at their table. “It’s time to close the library.”

“Can’t we have a few more minutes?” Hermione asked.

“I’m sorry, Miss Granger,” the librarian said, “but I’ve kept it open for longer than I should already. You are welcome to come back in the morning.”

“Okay,” Hermione said, closing her book. “Thank you, Madam Pince.”

The two left the library quietly. They made their way a fireplace that McGonagall had designated for their use. He took a pouch of floo powder from his pocket and handed it to Hermione. “Ladies first.”

Hermione smiled as she rolled her eyes. She took a handful of the powder and handed the pouch back to Ron. “See you at the Burrow.”

He watched her disappear in a roar of green flames. He gave her enough time to get out of the fireplace at home. He hoped he would have better luck the next day as the flames surged around him.


	8. Chapter 8

Hermione was horrified to see the growing light in the east. With a cry of distress, she threw back the covers and jumped out of bed. She quickly donned a dressing gown, heading to the loo.

In record time, she was back in Ginny’s old room. She found the books that Ron had gotten for her while in the hospital. She got her quill and a bit of parchment and opened a book.

She didn’t how long she had been working when a voice said, “Tell me that you got some sleep, Hermione.”

With a cry of surprise, she whirled around. When she realized that it was Ron, she clutched the collar of her dressing gown closed. “You could have knocked, Ron!”

He chuckled. “I did. You were just too involved with your books to hear it. Did you find anything?”

She glanced at her notes. Given the time she had been working, there were very few of them. “Not really.”

“Well, we’ve got more work to do at the Hogwart’s library.”

“Yeah,” she said quietly. They were both quiet for a moment. “Was there something you wanted, Ron?”

“Huh?”

“Was there a reason you came to find me?”

“Oh, right. Mum’s about finished with breakfast.”

“That was nice of her, but I’m not hungry.”

“Since when has that ever mattered to Mum,” Ron said with a shrug. “It would be easier if you just ate something so we can get back to Hogwarts.”

“Ron, what’s taking you!” a voice bellowed.

He sighed as he stepped back into the hall. “Just a minute, Mum!”

He gave Hermione a told-you-so look. “Better hurry, Hermione. I’ll see you downstairs.”

“Okay.” Hermione shut the door behind him. She dressed quickly so she wouldn’t face an annoyed Molly Weasley.

* * * * *

“Well?” Molly demanded when Ron re-entered the kitchen.

“She’ll be down in a minute, Mum.”

Molly gave the stove another flick of her wand. “I’m worried about her.”

“I know,” Ron said quietly.

She turned and studied her youngest son. She wondered how he was taking all this. After all, he and Hermione had been friends for years.

“Ron,” she began but stopped as Hermione entered the kitchen.

“Good morning, Mrs. Weasley,” she greeted, taking a seat across from Ron. “Everything looks delicious.”

Molly smiled. “Thank you, dear. Now, eat up. I know you and Ron have things to do.”

She watched them as they ate. To be so young, they had been through so much. She hoped that they would prevail in this crisis as well.

However, she wondered what would happen if they couldn’t.

* * * * *

The library was mostly deserted when they arrived. Madame Pince had left their table as they had left it. She and Ron quickly got to work. Harry and Ginny joined them a few minutes later.

The four worked diligently. The silence of the library was only broken by the sounds of turning pages, quills on parchment, and soft footsteps. Words were limited to requests for books or parchment and the like.

Without being asked, Ron took a stack of books to a table so Madame Pince could reshelve them. He stopped when he saw the grounds outside. A group of students were having a huge snowball fight and he could almost hear the shouts and laughter.

He wished that it was them down there, back in their Hogwarts days. Before Voldemort returned, before the battles. Before Hermione was cursed.

Cursing himself for wool-gathering, he made his way back to their table. Hermione glanced up at him, her expression worried. He shook his head and took a book. That seemed to satisfy her and she returned to her work.

When they breaked for lunch, Hermione went without protest. They were again overwhelmed by the house elves. They swapped small talk with Dobby, who was thrilled to be in the presence of Harry Potter again.

It was Ron who suggested that they return to the library. Hermione jumped at the chance. They left Harry and Ginny to follow. Without discussion, they practically ran back to the library.

He tried not to focus on the small number of books left. He tried not to dwell that they had almost gone through the entire Hogwarts’ restricted section and practically learned nothing. He tried not to remember that Hermione may be only had days or even hours of magic left.

His mind was working on different levels. Part was reading the text before him, looking for any clue towards a cure. Another was desperately trying to think of where else they could look. Did the Healers have a library? He had already exhausted his sources with the Aurors.

Across the table, Hermione mirrored his desperation. She searched through the books, writing down every bit of relevant information she could find. Given the number of volumes she had gone through, it was a pitiful amount.

Harry eventually returned to the library alone. Ron worked as he waited for his sister to appear as well. Minutes ticked by and there was no sign of her.

“Where’s Ginny?” Ron finally asked quietly.

“I sent her home,” Harry replied. “She won’t admit it, but she needs rest.”

Hermione’s head jerked up. “Is she okay? Is she sick?”

“No, no,” Harry stated quickly. “She just needs a nap is all. She’ll be back in a bit.”

“Maybe she shouldn’t,” Hermione murmured. “It’s not like we’re making any progress.”

“Don’t say that.”

She met Ron’s glare. “We have to be realistic, Ron. We have to face the possibility that we may not find a cure.”

“We still have books to go through,” he protested. He ignored Madam Pince’s order to lower his voice. “There could be something in them.”

“Or there could be nothing, as in all the others,” she countered. “We’ll be through these books by this afternoon. And then what? We’re running out of places to look, Ron. The healers are probably right; there is no cure.”

He shook his head. “I can’t believe that.”

“Why?” she demanded. Why was he being so stubborn about this?

Again, he shook his head. Hermione glanced at Harry. He looked back at her, his expression torn. She sighed and decided to change her tactics.

“Ron,” she said gently. He refused to look up at her. “Ron, please.”

He stilled as she covered one of his hands with hers. He let out a breath and some of his defiance melted away. She tightened her grip on his hand.

“Mr. Weasley!”

The student ignored Madam Pince as he ran to their table. Ron pulled his hand away as he rose to his feet. He walked toward the boy to meet him.

“This just came by owl for you,” the boy said. He stopped in front of the tall Auror. “It looks like it’s urgent.”

Ron thanked the boy as he took the letter. The boy lingered until Ron gave him a meaningful look. As soon as the boy was leaving, Ron opened the letter.

It couldn’t be long, given the time it took him to read it, Hermione surmised. She watched his face for any hint of the news the letter had. But he kept his face blank.

He seemed perfectly calm as he refolded it. But his eyes were blazing blue fire as he turned to them. “Malfoy’s been captured.”


	9. Chapter 9

Ron stormed down the stairs. Hermione quickly followed behind him, calling his name. However, he ignored her.

“Why not?” she demanded. “Why can’t I go?”

“I’ve already told you.”

“I know it’s dangerous, Ron.”

He stopped, whirling to face her. “Have you ever been to Azkaban?”

She blinked. “No.”

“Consider yourself lucky,” he said. He loomed over her, emphasizing the significant difference in their heights. “I’ve been there, Hermione. You have no idea how dangerous it is.”

“I’m capable of taking care of myself,” she countered. “I was there for the war, too.”

“That’s not the point.”

“What is the point?”

They were nearly nose to nose. His face was nearly as red as his hair. Her cheeks were flushed.

“You really want to know?” he asked.

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t!”

“I don’t want you near him, okay! I don’t want to give him another chance to hurt you.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “He’s done enough already.”

“You’re doing this to protect me?”

“Is that what I said?”

Hermione’s expression went from confused to irritated. “That’s the most misogynistic thing you’ve ever said, Ron!”

“Miso-what!”

“Oh, never mind,” she huffed, barreling past him.

“Where are you going?” His longer legs allowed him to quickly catch up with her. “Hermione!”

“I’m going to Azkaban, Ron. You can’t stop me.”

“I don’t have to.”

She stopped and whirled to face him. “What do you mean by that?”

“You can only get to Azkaban by special clearance. As an Auror, I have it. You, Hermione, don’t.”

“That’s not fair!”

“Few things in life are fair, Hermione.” He shook his head. “Please, go back to the library. I’ll let you know what I find out.”

“That’s so kind of you,” she spat, her tone acid.

“Anytime.”

She growled in frustration. With one last glare, she stomped back to the library. He could hear her muttering as she left.

She would be mad at him. He had no doubt about that. Hopefully, it wouldn’t take her too long to get over it.

But at least she wouldn’t be at Azkaban.

* * * * *

Shacklebolt said that he wasn’t supposed to set foot near Auror headquarters until he received an owl from the director himself. Azkaban was nowhere near headquarters. So, Ron technically wasn’t violating the director’s orders. But he knew he was violating the spirit of them.

He just couldn’t bring himself to give a damn.

“Has he said anything?” Ron asked as he and his escort made their way through the prison. Even without the Dementors, the place could still suck the soul of a person. It was the perfect place for Malfoy, really.

Seamus shook his head. “Nothing useful. Of course, we’d more suspicious if he did decide to cooperate.”

“Where was he found?”

“Romania. An old family that knew his father was sheltering him. A generous reward persuaded the local villagers to contact us.”

Seamus stopped outside a cell door. “I’m not going to regret this, am I, Ron?”

“Just open the door,” Ron ordered.

Seamus did as he was asked. He watched as his superior entered the cell and then nodded. With a sigh, he shut the door. Then he began to wait.

* * * * *

“Ah, weasel.” Draco Malfoy still clung to his aristocratic airs. Although he was dressed in prison robes and chained at wrists and ankles, he acted as if he was receiving a guest. A guest who did not warrant his attention.

“Ferret,” Ron returned.

“How is the Mudblood? Has she lost her magic yet?”

Ron grinned before punching him in the jaw. The blow sent the slight man sprawling. With a groan, he picked himself off the floor.

“How dare you!”

The door opened. Seamus popped his head in. “Everything all right?”

“Yes,” Ron replied. “Malfoy’s just clumsy. Tripped over himself.”

Seamus glanced from Ron to Malfoy and back. “I see.” With that, he closed the door again.

“What’s the cure, Malfoy?”

Malfoy smirked. “There is no cure. I made sure of that before I used it.”

“You’re lying. If you give us the cure, I will make sure that your sentence will be lightened.”

Malfoy tried to look bored. It was an expression his father had done well. “I don’t care what you think, Weasley. Besides, why would I help your little Mudblood?”

Ron grabbed Malfoy by the collar, twisting his fist in the fabric of the prison robes. Fear flashed in the other man’s eyes. “The cure, now!”

Malfoy tried to pull away. However, Ron’s grip held. “There is no cure, idiot!”

“You’re lying!”

The next thing Ron knew, Seamus was pulling him off Malfoy. Ron suddenly let go. The prisoner fell to the floor, grasping for air. Seamus glanced at Malfoy before he shoved Ron out of the cell, slamming the door behind them.

“That the hell was that!” Seamus bellowed.

“I lost control of my temper,” Ron said weakly.

“No shite,” Seamus spat.

Ron knew that he should say something. That he should at least apologize to Seamus since he may have put his job on the line for this. But all he could do was stare at his hands.


	10. Chapter 10

Hermione closed the last book. She stared at the cover for a long time. Suddenly the title began to blur. Sniffling, she hastily wiped the tears away.

‘So, that’s that,’ she told herself. She had gone through the entire Hogwarts library, including the books that Ron had brought to her at the hospital. The Healers had nothing to offer either. Unless Malfoy had some cure . . .

She stopped that thought there.

There was no way Malfoy would help her, not without a bribe. And she couldn’t stomach the idea of him possibly going free just so she would have magic again. He deserved to rot in Azkaban for his crimes.

She began to clean off Ginny’s old desk. She stacked the books into neat piles to send back to Hogwarts, hoping that she could borrow the Weasleys’ owl for the task. As she gathered up her notes, she wondered what to do next.

She knew that she had to face facts. She would be a Muggle again. What kind of job could she have in the Wizarding world if she didn’t have magic?

She paused. Did she want to stay in the Wizarding world without magic? Could she stand that kind of existence?

She honestly didn’t know.

“Hermione, dear.” Mrs. Weasley opened the door further. “I have tea ready.”

“Tea sounds lovely,” she replied, rising to her feet. “I hope you didn’t go through too much trouble.”

“Don’t you worry about that. Come on downstairs.”

Hermione smiled as she followed Mrs. Weasley out of the room.

* * * * *

Despite Mrs. Weasley’s protests, after tea, Hermione packed up her stuff and returned to her flat. She had been cleared by the Healers, so there was no reason to stay. If she had, she would only be taking advantage of the Weasleys’ hospitality.

“Meow!”

Hermione laughed as she dropped her bags. She scooped up the big ginger ball of fluff. “Miss me, Crookshanks? Or just the food?”

She set the cat back down, ignoring its glare. She opened a can of tuna and dumped in it in the food dish. He was actually purring as he ate.

“Poor thing,” she mocked gently, “having to eat dry food like a normal cat. Such torture.”

Crookshanks raised his head to glare at her before returning to his feast. Chuckling at his antics, Hermione picked up her bags and headed into her bedroom. She began to unpack.

A sudden pop announced she had a visitor.

“Hermione!”

“In here,” she called. She emerged from the wardrobe to find Ron in her bedroom. “Hello.”

“Hi.”

She studied him for a moment. He had his hands shoved deep in his pockets. He seemed so uncertain. It was an unusual expression for the usually confident Auror.

“Back from Azkaban, I see,” she said, walking past him to the bed. She took a pair of slacks and returned to the wardrobe. “Did you see him?”

“Yeah.”

She went back to the bed but sat down this time. “Did you talk to him, Ron?”

He nodded.

“Did he say anything useful?”

“No.”

“I’d be surprised if he did,” she admitted.

“Me, too.” He ran a hand through his hair. It was only then that she saw his knuckles.

“Ron, what did you do to your hand!”

He appeared startled. He glanced at it before looking at her. He quickly shoved his hand back into his pocket.

“Ron!”

“It’s nothing, Hermione.”

“Ron,” she said, warning evident in her voice. She grabbed his wrist and tugged. Although he was stronger than her, he let her have his hand with a sigh.

The knuckles were swollen and she could see the beginning of bruises around them. As she ran gentle fingers over them, she wondered what he had hit. She looked up at him.

“Oh, Ron, you didn’t,” she said quietly.

“Do what?”

“You didn’t hit Malfoy, did you?”

But she knew immediately from his expression that he had. Judging from his knuckles, it must have been very hard. Shaking her head, she released his hand.

“Have a seat,” she ordered. “I’ll be right back.”

She disappeared into the rest of her flat. She quickly returned with a plastic bag of ice and was amused to find Ron obediently sitting on her bed. She sat down beside him. She held the ice with one hand and took his hand into her lap with the other.

They were silent as she held the ice against the swollen knuckles. He didn’t flinch. She tried not to blush as she kept his hand on her lap.

“Why did you hit him?”

“What?”

“Why did you hit him?” she repeated, keeping her eyes on her lap.

“Do I really need a reason?”

She sighed. “I hope you don’t regret it later.”

“I won’t,” he said.

They fell into silence. She glanced at the clock from time to time. After several minutes, she removed the ice. “There you go.”

He flexed his fingers slowly. The knuckles did feel better. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” She sat the bag of ice aside. “What did Malfoy say?”

“Not much besides the usual insults.”

“Ron,” she prompted.

“He said that there wasn’t a cure, that he made sure of that before he used it,” Ron admitted reluctantly. “But he’s just bluffing,” he added quickly. “Probably wants some leverage for a lighter sentence if he got caught.”

“I don’t think so,” she said quietly.

“What?”

“Ron, I . . .” She took a deep breath. “I haven’t been able to do a spell since this morning.”

Icy dread washed over him.

“My magic’s gone, Ron.”

“Well, we’ll keep looking for a cure. We may still have time.”

“There’s no cure, Ron. Malfoy said it himself.”

“We’ll find one, Hermione.”

She shook her head. “I’ve been through all the books and there’s nothing. The Healers don’t have anything, either. And I’m sure that you’ve already contacted the Aurors about one.”

“Then we’ll look somewhere else.”

“Like where?” she demanded. She took a deep breath to calm herself. She laid a hand on his. “We’ve run out of places to look, Ron. Now we have to face facts.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m a Muggle again.” She paused. “I’ll be returning to the Muggle world.”

“What!” he hissed.

“I’m not going to disappear,” she said quickly. “I’ll still visit you and Harry and Ginny. And your Mum would never forgive me if I didn’t come for Christmas.”

“You don’t have to leave.”

“I’ve been a Muggle before, Ron, and I can do it again.”

“I don’t want you to leave.”

She didn’t know what to say to that. She knew that he cared about her. She was one of his best friends after all. But that confession was so unlike him.

“Please, don’t go, Hermione.” His eyes were pleading. “Give me more time.”

She suddenly became aware of how close they were. She could tell when he realized it, too. His eyes darkened and his hand quickly felt warm under hers. Hers shook slightly.

A clock chimed, making them both jump. Hermione quickly withdrew her hand. Ron ran a hand through his hair as he kept his eyes carefully averted.

“Well, if we hurry, we won’t be late,” she said, finally breaking the awkward silence.

“Late for what?”

“Dinner. I told your mum I would come over for dinner. I’m sure she’d love for you to be there.”

He followed her into the living room. Hermione was heading to the fireplace when an arm snaked around her waist. She turned to find herself pressed against Ron.

“It will be quicker this way,” he said, answering her unspoken question. With a loud pop, they disappeared.


	11. Chapter 11

Hermione pulled herself free from Ron as soon as the Burrow appeared. He caught a glimpse of her flaming cheeks before she stomped off toward the house. With a sigh, he followed her.

Why couldn’t he think when he was around her? He wanted to get to the Burrow quickly. Apparation seemed like the best option.

Of course, it also had provided a reason to hold her close. A bonus, really. But like always, his plans pertaining to her backfired.

She was mad at him. Again. Like always.

Despite his longer legs, she entered the house first. His mum was hugging Hermione in welcome while admonishing her for leaving so quickly earlier that day. Ron noted Harry and Ginny were already there. He kissed his mum on the cheek before saying hello to his sister and brother-in-law.

They sat down for dinner. Ron was both thrilled and appalled that he was sitting next to Hermione. They were just beginning to eat when Mr. Weasley arrived home.

After brief greeting, everyone settled back down to the meal. Conversation began about Mr. Weasley’s latest project at the Ministry. It drifted then to the one in his shop.

Ron listened absently. He was acutely aware of every movement Hermione made. It was like he was fifteen all over again.

Ginny and Harry began discussing possible baby names. Mrs. Weasley offered several suggestions, each worse than the last. Hermione occasionally chimed in to voice an opinion.

Ron studied her out the corner of his eyes. It seemed so unreal to him. He couldn’t believe that her magic was gone. He tried not to think about how she would soon leave the Wizarding world to rejoin the Muggle one.

His appetite quickly soured. He managed a few bites of dessert but it was absolutely tasteless to him. The continued discussion of baby names kept his mum from noticing.

“Ron, let’s go have a fly,” Harry said.

Ron glanced from his mate to his sister.

“Oh, go on,” Ginny cried. “Then maybe Harry will quit hovering.”

“I do not hover,” Harry protested. Ginny merely lifted an eyebrow. “Do I?”

“Just enough to drive me mad,” she replied, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Now, off with you.”

Mr. Weasley used it as an opportunity to escape to his shed. Ron followed Harry out into the yard. He could hear female giggles as he closed the door behind him.

His dad soon disappeared into his shop, leaving the two of them in the yard alone. Ron retrieved two brooms. He kept his old broom for himself and passed the newer one to Harry.

They took off and began to follow the river. While Ron couldn’t match Harry, who was a natural on a broom, he did manage to keep up with the famous Seeker. Just as they neared the village, Harry veered off, abruptly changing directions.

He glanced back at Ron, grinning when he saw that his friend had managed to follow. Then there was challenge in Harry’s smile. Ron felt himself grin for real for the first time in days.

He was soon chasing Harry through treetops, barely avoiding branches. They continued their game up and down the river with Harry setting the pace and course. Ron pushed himself and the broom to their limits. Every time Harry glanced back over his shoulder, Ron was there.

Eventually the light began to fade. It was getting harder and harder to see the obstacles in the way. Harry slowed and headed back to the Burrow.

“Excellent flying, mate,” Harry congratulated as they landed.

Ron grinned as he shouldered his broom. “Haven’t flown like that in ages.”

“Well, if you ever tire of the Aurors, you could still have a career in Quidditch.” With a slap to Ron’s back, Harry went to return his broom.

A quiet Ron followed. The mention of the Aurors reminded him of the confrontation with Malfoy. And that thought led him to replaying the conversation in Hermione’s bedroom.

He knew Hermione. Once she made up her mind, she went through with her plan. She rarely backed down.

Which meant she was leaving.

“Ron?”

He glanced over at Harry. “Yeah?”

“Are you going to keep standing there or are you going to put that broom back and come inside?”

Ron blinked. He was still standing outside the storage area with the broom over his shoulder. “Oh, right.”

He quickly put the broom back in its place. He knew that Harry was watching him closely as he closed the door. He was sure to smile as he turned back to his friend. “I wonder if any of that pie is left.”

“There’s something wrong,” Harry said, moving to stand between Ron and the house. “What is it?”

“Nothing, mate.”

“Bullocks! What did Malfoy tell you? Does he have a cure for Hermione?”

“No,” Ron said quietly.

“What?”

“There’s no cure, Harry.” He looked past Harry to the house and caught a glimpse of Hermione through a window. “Her magic’s finally gone, and she’s already made up her mind to leave the Wizarding world.”

Harry was silent, digesting the news. “Malfoy,” he began but faltered when Ron shook his head.

“He said that he made sure that there was no cure before he used it,” Ron said. “If there was even a possibility of a cure, he’d be using as leverage now.”

“You have to tell her, Ron.”

“Tell her what?”

Harry scowled. “How you feel about her.”

“Now’s not exactly a good time, Harry,” Ron spat. He made a move toward the house but Harry pushed him back.

“I’m so sick of hearing you say that! For years, you’ve been waiting for the right time and something’s always held you back. And now you’ll just let her leave without ever knowing!”

“She said that she’d visit.” He risked another glance at the window. “Besides, it’s probably for the best.”

“That’s shite and you know it!”

“Just leave it, Harry.”

“One day, you’ll regret this, Ron.” With that, he turned and headed toward the house.

As he followed, Ron realized that he was already regretting a lot of things.


	12. Chapter 12

With Malfoy back in custody, Shacklebolt thought it was safe to bring Ron back on duty. So he returned to headquarters and his squad. There were other Dark wizards to catch. He was quickly back on missions.

However, this afternoon he was catching up on paperwork. His inbox was as full as ever. With a scowl, he reviewed a form, signed it, and placed it in a new pile.

He had emerged from his work long enough to celebrate the arrival of his newest niece, Emma Elizabeth Potter. Ginny and the baby were doing fine, a proud Harry announced to all and sundry. The crowded waiting room had erupted in cheers.

Of course Hermione was there. There was no way that she would miss the birth of Harry and Ginny’s baby. She hugged Harry, congratulating him on his daughter. She waited patiently for her chance to briefly see Ginny and the baby.

It was the first time he had seen her in weeks. He knew that she had found a job as a researcher in a Muggle university with help from the Ministry. She seemed happy as she conversed with Remus Lupin.

He managed to talk to her for a few moments after he had seen his sister and his niece. They exchanged tidbits about work. Then it was her turn to see Ginny and the baby and he was called back to headquarters.

He wondered when he was going to see her again. Would it be Easter at the Burrow? Sooner?

He was pulled from his thoughts by a knock on his door. Calling for the person to come in, Ron took another piece of parchment out of his inbox. However, the form was quickly forgotten when Shacklebolt appeared in his office.

“Shacklebolt,” Ron greeted, rising to his feet.

“Afternoon, Weasley,” the older man said, taking a seat. Ron followed his example. “Hard at work, I see.”

Ron wasn’t sure how to reply so he remained silent. Why was his boss here? Shacklebolt was never one for idle chats.

Shacklebolt sighed as he leaned back in the chair. “I just received word that Malfoy’s trial has been scheduled. As a witness to his attack on Hermione Granger, you’ll be asked to testify.”

“Gladly,” Ron said.

Shacklebolt nodded. “I’d figured as much. I must warn you that you are to remain professional during your testimony. I won’t have you embarrassing the Aurors at the Wizengamot, understood?”

“Understood.”

“Good,” stated Shacklebolt as he rose to his feet. “I’ll leave to your paperwork.”

However, paperwork was the last thing on Ron’s mind as his boss left the office.

* * * * *

The morning of the trial came quickly. As Shacklebolt had predicted, Ron had been called to testify before the Wizengamot about Malfoy’s attack on Hermione. Ron took a moment to smooth the front of his neatly pressed Auror robes before entering the courtroom.

A few witches and wizards were already in the room. Most were dressed in plum-colored robes and occupied the highest set of benches in the room. They were conversing in low voices, making whispers in the room.

Ron took a seat on a bench about halfway up the room. He had a good view of the Wizengamot as well as the chair in the center of the room. He smiled as he thought of Malfoy in chains.

More people began to come into the room. Ron recognized a report from the Daily Prophet who had once interviewed him about a case. As more took their place at the highest bench, a handful of people took seats on the benches around him. Some disappeared into the shadows caused by the flickering torchlight.

Ron, like the others, watched as Malfoy and several guards appeared in the center of the room. Suddenly the room fell silent. Malfoy scowled as he was shackled to the chair.

The head of the Wizengamot called the room to order. “The trial of the third of February into offenses committed by Draco Abraxas Malfoy which includes escape from the prison of Azkaban and use of the Latrunculus Curse. Please call the first witness.”

A guard from Azkaban came forward. He described the discovery of Narcissa Malfoy in the cell of her son and the subsequent search of Azkaban for the escaped prisoner. When he wasn’t located, the guard testified that the Aurors were contacted.

Ron was then called. He told the court about the squads sent out and the protection measures taken. He then went on to describe the attack on Hermione at the cemetery.

As he spoke, images of that horrible afternoon flashed through his minds. Hermione being cursed and falling unconscious to the ground. Malfoy’s smirk as he disappears. The healers taking her away from him in St. Mungo’s. However, his voice stayed steady.

When he finished, the court had few questions for him. Ron managed one glare at Malfoy as he returned to his seat. The glare was returned in full measure.

“Next will be Hermione Jane Granger.”

A gasp came from the crowd. A figure emerged from one of the shadows. She looked directly ahead, head held high, as she made her way forward.

“A Muggle to testify against me!” Malfoy cried, straining against his shackles. “How dare you!”

Ron was already to his feet when Hermione calmly said, “Muggles are allowed to testify before the Wizengamot. Also, a prisoner cannot profit from an offense by using magic to prevent a witness from giving testimony against him.” She eyed Malfoy coolly as she rattled off a number of cases as examples.

‘Way to go, Hermione,’ Ron thought as he sat back down.

The Wizengamot head agreed with Hermione’s statement. Malfoy was muttering as he settled reluctantly back in his chair. Hermione turned her back to him as she once more addressed the court.

She told her version of the events in the cemetery. During questions, she said that she had been a target during the second war due to her close ties to Harry Potter and the Weasleys in addition to her own activities. She had testified against Malfoy in his earlier trail for the death of her parents, stating that she saw him leave her house before discovering their bodies.

Once her testimony was over, she turned to head back to her seat. Malfoy tried to rise as she passed. He appeared almost feral as he spat, “I should have waited a few more minutes and killed you, too, Mudblood.”

Hermione stiffened. For a moment, Ron thought she would burst into tears. However, she pulled herself together and moved on toward her seat without a glance back.

A bit into Seamus’s testimony, Ron heard the door quickly opened and then closed. He quietly made his way out of the courtroom. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the brighter light outside.

He turned to the sobs coming from his right. Familiar bushy hair was bouncing against shaky shoulders as Hermione sobbed. Ron called her name.

She glanced up at the sound. She froze for a moment, eyes red-rimmed from tears. “Ron?”

“You did real well in there, Hermione,” Ron said as he moved toward her.

She gave a bitter laugh. “Yeah, I was very brave facing him when he’s surrounded by guards.”

“You faced him,” he said, “and because of you, he will go back to Azkaban to rot. He won’t be able to hurt anyone again. You did that, Hermione, when many people would be miles away from here.”

“Some hero,” she muttered, wiping at her eyes, “crying out here in the hall where anyone could see.”

Ron tipped her chin up to face him. “You are a hero, Hermione.”

Her eyes met his and suddenly everything shifted. He took a deep breath. He felt Hermione’s breath against his face as he leaned forward.

“Ron, don’t,” she whispered suddenly.

He froze. “What?”

She pulled away from him. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”

“Hermione, wait.” He grabbed her arm but she jerked it free. He stared at her, confused. “Hermione?”

“I’m sorry, Ron,” she cried. Covering her face, she turned and ran off. Her sobs echoed off the walls.

What had just happened? What did he do wrong? He was still standing there in confusion when Seamus suddenly appeared at his side.

“Weasley,” the other Auror greeted. “Care to get a bite before heading back to headquarters?

“Why not,” Ron replied. However, he knew that his mind would not be on food.


	13. Chapter 13

Hermione sat at the table, staring at the piece of parchment in her hand. She had been reading it for half an hour. However, she had comprehended none of the words.

Her thoughts kept drifting back to the day before. The anxiety from appearing before the Wizengamot still lingered. The pain of confronting Malfoy was still fresh. She kept reliving it again and again in her head.

But part she dwelled most on was her encounter with Ron. She still could feel his hand on her chin. The darkening of his eyes had sped up her pulse. She had been so sure that he was going to kiss her.

For years, she had waited for Ron to become aware of this thing between them. Each time she thought that he would finally get it, he’d go and make things worse. They would have stopped being friends sixth year if it wasn’t for Harry.

And when the moment she had waited for so long for to arrive did, she had run away.

‘Some Gryffindor,’ she thought bitterly.

Once again, her brain had gotten in the way. As Ron had leaned toward her, a myriad of thought had raced through her mind. Was he finally kissing her? How would it change things between them? Was he only doing it because he had felt sorry for her?

That last thought had stopped her cold.

It was possible. Ron was gallant among other things. It may have occurred to him to do it if would make her feel better.

She wasn’t going to let Ronald Weasley kiss her out of sympathy.

Thinking about yesterday wasn’t going to change anything. With a frustrated sigh, she turned her attention yet again to the parchment. She needed to get some work done.

“Is that an owl?”

The question sliced through the silence of the library. Like the others, Hermione looked up at the window. A snowy barn owl was flying outside. It seemed to look straight at her.

“It looks like it’s holding an envelope.”

Hermione jumped up from her chair. She had to get the owl leave. It was drawing too much attention.

“Miss Granger?” The student nervously shifted the books in his arms. “I was wondering if I could run an idea by you.”

“I’ll be right back,” she assured the student. She hurried from the library. She ignored the looks she was getting as she flew down the stairs.

She was not outside long before the owl swooped down to her. The envelope was addressed to her. Ron’s scrawl made her heart skip a beat. As the owl flew away, she shoved the letter into her coat and went back inside.

Hermione was surprised to find the boy still waiting at the table. She thought he would have shuffled on. She sat back down, moving her study materials aside.

Her job at the university was mainly as a researcher with her area of specialization being the occult practices of Western Europe. She was also serving as a mentor to a few selected students in the history and sociology departments. Professor McGonagall had told her that it may help her gain a permanent position at the university.

“What is your idea that you wanted to talk about, Alan?”

The boy nervously shifted his books again. “How much do you know about Medieval Bulgaria?”

She listened attentively as he outlined the idea for his next paper. His idea was intriguing. She found herself getting excited with him as he showed her his various sources.

She made a few suggestions and pointed out a few flaws in his logic. He thanked Hermione profusely as they finished. She told that she was glad to help.

And she was. Besides the joy from helping him, their session kept her mind off Ron’s letter. But she couldn’t put off much longer.

She returned her research material and cleaned off her table. She gathered her belongings. Waving at a guard, she left the library.

The letter was a heavy weight in her coat as she made the trek to her flat. She tried to think of other things but they inevitably returned to it. What was in the letter? What did he have to say?

Did she want to know what he had to say?

Yes, she finally realized.

Crookshanks greeted her at the door. He immediately trotted over to his food dish. His “yowl” indicated that he was unhappy about its empty state.

“Okay, Crooks,” she sighed, “give me a minute.”

She set her stuff on a table before heading into the kitchen. She put the kettle on. Then she grabbed a can of tuna for Crookshanks. The cat watched her every move, his tongue licking in anticipation.

“You can’t be that hungry,” she scolded.

The cat seemed to glare at her. Shaking her head, Hermione emptied the tuna into the food dish. She was quickly forgotten as Crookshanks settled into his dinner.

She made a cup of tea and took Ron’s letter into the lounge. After a fortifying sip of tea, she opened the letter. She wasn’t surprised that it was brief. Ron was never one for many words.

“Hermione, Malfoy’s trial is expected to end in three days. Will you be there for the verdict? The Aurors will provide you protection if needed. Ron”

Protection? She read the letter again and again. What danger could she face now? Hadn’t Malfoy done enough to her?

She tossed the letter unto the table. Of course, she would be there for the verdict. She wanted nothing more than to see him sent to Azkaban again for his crimes.

But could she face Ron?

She didn’t know.


	14. Chapter 14

Hermione gave up on her hair as a lost cause and left the bathroom. She searched her bedroom for her shoes. They were not in their usual place in the bottom of the wardrobe. She found one under her bed but its mate was nowhere in sight.

She carried her lone shoe with her as she made her way into the lounge. The clock suddenly chimed as if to remind her she would soon be late. With a frustrated sigh, she checked under a table and then the couch.

“Where is it?” she muttered

She suddenly heard a thump in the next room. Crookshanks was happily batting around her shoe. He yowled in protest as she retrieved it.

“You have toys, Crooks,” she reminded the cat. She quickly put on her shoes. She was about to grab her purse when there was a knock on the door. “What now?”

She opened the door. For a moment, she was speechless. “Ron?”

“Good morning, Hermione.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to escort you.”

She suddenly noticed Mrs. Callahan down the hall. The elderly woman was watching the scene with avid interest. Hermione grabbed Ron’s arm and pulled him inside. She quickly shut the door.

“I can’t believe you, Ron!” she hissed as she turned toward her unwanted guest. “I don’t need any protection. Malfoy’s going to be surrounded by guards from Azkaban. It’s not like he’s going to be able to attack me. Besides I can take care of myself.”

That may have been true before, Ron thought, but a magic-less Hermione would be not match for a wizard. “Orders from Shacklebolt.”

“Of course,” Hermione muttered. She grabbed her purse and stepped back toward the door. “Well, let’s go.”

“I thought we’d go by Floo powder.”

“Absolutely not!”

He was a bit taken aback by her vehemence. “Why not?”

“I will not have Mrs. Callahan thinking that you’ve been here all that time.”

“Oh, come on, Hermione. You can’t really care that much about what that old biddy thinks.”

“That old biddy is my neighbor, Ron. I live here now and I do care what my neighbors think of me.” She shouldered her purse. “Let’s go.”

He followed her out of her flat. He waited as she locked the door, absently thinking how fascinated his father would be by the simple act. Down the hall, Mrs. Callahan was lingering by her door. She smiled at Hermione and Ron as they made their way to the stairs.

Ron could feel the neighbor’s eyes on him as he followed Hermione down the stairs. “Nosey old bird, isn’t she?”

“You have no idea,” Hermione said. “Soon the whole building will know about you.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

She ignored the question as she led him out of the building and unto the busy street. Ron quickly matched her brisk pace. During their Hogwarts day, the sights of Muggle London would have left him gawking. But not any more. Due to his Auror training, he could now pass well as a Muggle if need be.

Yet, he always hated the need. He returned from the Muggle world as soon as his missions allowed. He felt exposed, weakened away from magic.

He risked a glance at Hermione. She looked to have adjusted well to her return to a Muggle life. But then she rarely let anyone know when something was wrong.

“What?”

“Huh?” he asked, pulled from his thoughts.

“Why are you staring at me like that?”

“Nothing,” he said quickly. “Just thinking.”

She gave him a look but said nothing. They finished the rest of the way to the Ministry of Magic in silence. Ron hated having to take her through the visitors’ entrance but he had no choice. If she was offended by the badge that announced her as a visitor, she gave no sign.

A few people stopped and spoke to them. Most wished Hermione well as she recovered from Malfoy’s curse, still unaware of the true nature of the magic used against her. Hermione politely thanked each one. She gave no sign that her retreat to the Muggle world would be permanent.

Soon they were outside the doors of the Wizengamot. Ron followed Hermione into the courtroom. Several people were already present, he noted. He spotted Seamus and a few other Aurors among the crowd of reporters, various Ministry employees and victims.

Shacklebolt wasn’t taking any chances. The sentencing of Draco Malfoy for crimes against a Muggle-born and her family could serve as a rallying point for the remaining Death Eaters. The Aurors would be out in force for the next several days in case that happened.

Ron wasn’t going to take any chances, either. He had no intention of letting Hermione out of his sight for the next several days. She just didn’t know it yet.

The murmurs of the crowd quieted as the members of the Wizengamot entered the chamber and took their places. They were an imposing sea of plum-colored robes. Each was stone-faced as they waited for the prisoner to arrive.

As if on cue, the guards from Azkaban arrived with their prisoner. A hush quickly fell over the crowd. The only sound in the chamber was the sound of chains.

Draco Malfoy held his head high. He viewed the assembled Wizengamot with open disdain. His gaze swept over the rest of the room, lingering on Hermione. He smirked when Ron shifted to sit closer to her.

“Draco Abraxas Malfoy,” the head of the Wizengamot called. Draco took his time to face the judges. “You are brought here to learn the sentence imposed by we, the Wizengamot, for your crimes. You will spend the rest of your natural life as a prisoner at Azkaban. Given the cruel and vicious nature of your crimes, you will be subjected to the Dementor’s kiss as well.”

Several gasps arose from the crowd. Draco went white but said nothing. A flash made Ron reach for his wand until he realized it was from the camera of the reporter from the Prophet.

“Your sentence will be carried out in a week’s time.” The head judge made a note on a sheet of paper. “You are dismissed. Guards, you may bring forth the next prisoner.”

“So that’s it,” Hermione murmured as Draco was led away. “It’s finally over.”

“Yeah,” Ron replied, hoping she was right.

“Let’s go.”

“Okay.”

They slipped out as the next prisoner was brought before the judges.


	15. Chapter 15

They left the courtroom. As Ron opened the door, there was a sudden flash of light. He quickly shoved Hermione behind him and drew his wand.

“Ms. Granger, Polly Perkins from the Daily Prophet,” a petite blond announced. Her photographer snapped another picture.

Ron shoved his wand into his robe. He grabbed Hermione's wrist and led her past the reporter. He fought the urge to hex the photographer as there was yet another flash from his camera.

“What do you think of today's sentence?” Polly persisted. “Has justice been served?”

Hermione paused before turning to face the reporter. “Nothing will bring my parents back, but I do take some comfort in the fact that Draco Malfoy will never be able to hurt another person ever again.”

“Is it true that Draco Malfoy's curse stripped you of your magic?”

“The healers are still determining the exact nature of the curse,” Hermione informed the reporter, “but I expect a full recovery.”

She sounded so convincing. He had no doubt that the reporter believed her. The Prophet would report in the morning edition that Hermione Granger was merely on continued leave from the Ministry to recover from Malfoy's curse.

It was a useful lie. It explained Hermione's absence from the Ministry and the Wizarding World. Very few knew about her return to life as a Muggle. It was clear that she wanted it to stay that way.

But was that all there was to Hermione's lie? There was something in her eyes that made him wonder if there was something she wasn't telling him. And that bothered him a lot.

“Any idea of when you will be able to return to your duties at the Ministry?” Polly asked. “Who is handling your position while you recover? Are they qualified to handle such responsibilities?”

“That's enough,” Ron said. He took Hermione's arm and again led her away from the courtroom. He easily ignored the questions Polly fired at his back.

* * * * *

The walk back to Hermione's flat was quiet. When they arrived at her door, she thanked him. She unlocked the door and moved to go inside. She paused when Ron grabbed the doorknob.

“What?”

“Let me go first.”

“You can't be serious.” She glanced down the hall to make sure that Mrs. Callahan wasn't lingering in her doorway. “You can't believe that there are Death Eaters in there.”

“Can't be too careful.” He opened the door and entered with his wand drawn.

“Oh, honestly, Ron!”

He gestured for her to stay outside in the hall. She pointedly ignored him and followed him inside. She watched in exasperation as he searched her flat, casting revealing charms and countercurses as he went.

She waited until he was finished with her bedroom before shutting the door and changing clothes. When she emerged, dressed in jeans and a Molly Wesley jumper, she heard Ron in the kitchen. She leaned against the wall as he cast a spell over her stove. “So, any Death Eaters in the oven?”

“Very funny,” he muttered. He put his wand back in his robes. “That should do it.”

“Hmm.” She went back into the lounge and suddenly noticed a new hum in the air. The revealing charms would not create such a change. “What else did you do?”

“I've strengthened the wards. They should give you enough time to use your portkey.”

“You really think they're going to come after me.”

“I don't want to take any chances,” he replied. “The Death Eaters aren't a forgiving lot.”

He sat down on the couch. After a moment, his stomach rumbled. “Hey, Hermione, do you have anything to eat?”

She almost told him to fix it himself but shuddered at the thought of the mess he could make. With a sigh, she headed into the kitchen. She searched her pantry until she found something she thought Ron would eat. She nearly dropped the plate when she heard a shout in the lounge.

Hermione rushed to the lounge. Ron whirled to face her. Her stomach dropped when she realized that he had Viktor's most recent letter in his hand. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“I can't believe you read my letter!”

“There's a cure! And you didn't tell me!”

“There isn't a cure, Ron!”

“I can read, Hermione!” He was white with fury as he shook the letter in her face. “Don't lie to me!”

She blinked back angry tears. “If you had actually read all of the letter, you would realize that the curse was invented at Durmstrang and the possible cure involves such Dark magic that Viktor would hardly mention it in a letter. So there is no cure, not for me. I won't resort to Dark magic to get my magic back. I won't, Ron.”

“Hermione,” he murmured, his voice suddenly soft. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“Why? Why would I tell you about another dead end?” She scrubbed her cheeks with the heels of her hands.

“You should have told me, Hermione.”

“I didn't want to get your hopes up. I didn't want you to be disappointed, again.”

“You didn't want me to be disappointed? Merlin, Hermione.”

She risked looking at him to gauge his reaction. Her breath stopped when she realized how close he was to her. His blue eyes seemed to bore into her. “Ron?”

“You're exasperating.” He cupped her cheek with his warm, broad hand. “You know that, don't you?”

She closed her eyes as he tipped her face up to his. A million reasons why they shouldn't do this flew through her mind. She ignored every one.

Instead she concentrated on the feel on his hand on her face, the brush of his lips against hers, and the scent of his aftershave. But it was soon too much as he deepened the kiss. She pressed closer into him.

She blinked in surprise when he pulled away. “Ron?”

He took a deep breath and pressed his forehead to hers. “We should have done that ages ago.”

She laughed. “Oh, really?”

“Could have save a lot of rows over the years,” he stated with a grin.

“That's what you think, Ron Weasley.”

He chuckled and kissed her again.


	16. Chapter 16

Ron stared at the ceiling of his room, watching the flickering shadows. Sleep eluded him as he went over the events of the evening. And while kissing Hermione had been great, he couldn't get that damn letter out of his mind.

There was a cure. Hermione could get her magic back and return to the Wizarding World. It was the chance that they had been looking for.

But why did have to come from Viktor bleeding Krum?

He believed Hermione when she said that she considered Viktor a friend. It was the intentions of the big-nosed Bulgarian that he wasn't sure of. With good reason.

After all, it was Krum who had taken Hermione to the Yule Ball. And he could hardly keep his eyes off her at Bill and Fleur's wedding. He had remained a very, very faithful penpal after the war.

And now he had found a possible cure for Hermione. It was fourth year all over. The great Quidditch star had managed to eclipse Ron Weasley again.

But their Hogwarts days were over, he reminded himself. He was more than Harry Potter's sidekick. He had held his own against the Death Eaters in the battle at Hogwarts. He had become a respected Auror and one of the youngest squad leaders in history.

But was it enough?

Growling in frustration, he rolled over and punched his pillow. He tried to bring up the memory of kissing Hermione again. He eventually fell asleep.

* * * * *

Hermione sighed as a shadow fell across her desk. “No, Mr. Windham, I haven't received the manuscript from Plovdiv University yet. I promise to call you as soon as it arrives.”

A deep chuckle made her look up. “But, Professor Granger, I just can't wait to read it.”

“Oh, I didn't know you were interested in medieval Bulgaria, Mr. Weasley,” she replied with a grin. She put down her pen, briefly missing her quills. She was surprised but happy about Ron's unexpected visit. “How did you find my office?”

“One of the students pointed it out for me.” He eyed the stack of papers on her desk. “You look busy. I should have asked before just showing up.”

“No, no,” she interjected. “You're a welcome distraction. ”

“Well, I wanted to see if you would have dinner with me.”

“Like a date?”

A much younger Ron would have blushed and stammered. But this older, more confident Ron smiled. “Yes, like a date.”

“I'd love to.”

“Pick you at seven at your flat?”

She nodded. “Where are we going?”

“It's a surprise.”

She wanted to question him further but a student knocked on the open office door. “Um, Miss Granger, I was checking about the manuscript.”

“I'll be with you in a moment, Alan.” The young man quickly murmured an apology and slipped back into the hallway. “It's the third time today.”

Ron chuckled. “Must be a very exciting manuscript.”

“It may be the foundation of his whole thesis, so it will be for him.”

“Then I'd better let you get back to work.” He leaned across her desk and kissed her. “I'll see you later tonight.”

She marveled at how casually he had kissed her. Like they had been together forever. He seemed to be handling the change in their relationship quite well. And as Alan came back in her office, she also realized that she still didn't know where they were going for dinner.

* * * * *

Ron promptly knocked on Hermione's door right at seven o'clock. He was momentarily stunned when she opened the door. He was used to seeing her in Ministry robes or jumpers. The dark blue sleeveless dress was quite a departure for her and he was far from complaining. “You look lovely.”

“Thank you. You look quite dapper yourself.”

He smiled as she eyed his button-down shirt and black pants. He could almost see the wheels turning in her head. “Still trying to figure out where we're going?”

“Maybe,” she replied with a smile of her own. “Are you going to tell me?”

He thought it over for a moment. “Not yet.”

Shaking her head, she closed the door to her flat and lock it. She placed her keys in her purse and turned back to Ron. She was amused when he gallantly offered his arm, which she readily accepted. “Are we going far?”

“Maybe.”

“Are we staying in London?”

“Possibly.”

She continued to pepper him with questions as he lead her to the unknown destination. She half-expected him to take her to Diagon Alley or apparate to Hogsmeade. So she was pleasantly surprised when they arrived at an Italian restaurant in a Muggle part of London. As they were lead to their table, Hermione wondered how he ever found this place.

“Dawlish,” Ron said, once the waiter had left.

“What?”

“John Dawlish likes this place,” he explained. “He's apparently a big fan of Italian food.”

“Dawlish likes this place,” she echoed, her expression dubious. He was the one of the Aurors that was present and hexed during the confrontation between Dumbledore and Umbridge over the DA. He was hexed again trying to arrest Dumbledore and later Neville's grandmother.

Ron grinned. “He's not such a bad guy. A bit too much by the book. But he's a real solid Auror.”

They began to discuss various items on the menu. The waiter returned to take their orders. Hermione held her breath as Ron ordered. She had forgotten to remind him that they were in Muggle London, not the Leaky Cauldron. She prayed that he wouldn't slip and order a Firewhiskey.

He ordered without mistake. He caught her expression and frowned. “What?”

“I was afraid that you were going to order a fire whiskey or something.”

“Aurors are now trained to be able to pass as Muggles. It comes in handy from time to time. But I'm always glad to get back.”

“Yes, I'm sure.”

He cursed under his breath. “Hermione, I'm sorry.”

“Don't be. I would be glad to be able to use magic again, too.”

'Then why aren't you pursuing the cure that Krum found?' he wondered.

Thankfully the waiter arrived with their food. They veered to less dangerous topics. They talked about her students and his ever-growing number of nieces and nephews. They managed to keep it up until the check arrived.

He began to chuckle as he led Hermione out of the restaurant. At her look, he smiled. “Harry owes me five galleons.”

“Why?”

“He didn't think we could get through a date without a row.”

“Our date's not over yet, Ron.”

He stopped, ignoring the passers-by on the street around them. He tucked a stray curl back behind her ear. “No, it's not.”

The world faded around them as they kissed.

* * * * *

Hermione couldn't stop smiling. Several of her co-workers commented on her change in her mood. She would make some vague comment about the change in weather.

She wanted to savor this. This change in their relationship. She wasn't ready to share it with anyone else yet.

She went to the university library to continue her research. It was interesting to look at magic from a Muggle perspective again. So much of it was speculation or completely inaccurate. The infamous witch hunts were a prime example.

But she couldn't focus on her work. She couldn't stop smiling. She couldn't get enough of this feeling.

“Hermione! There you are!”

Her stomach dropped as Harry rushed across the library to her. His expression was serious. Was it Ron? Ginny? Little Emma?

“Hermione, have you seen Ron?” he demanded, his voice breathless.

“Not since last night. Why? Isn't he at work?”

Harry shook his head. “No, he didn't go on any Auror business. Did he say anything to you about going anywhere?”

“No, he said that he would be tied up at work for the next few days.” Suddenly her fear was replaced by anger. “That idiot!”

“Hermione?”

“I think I know where he went.” She grabbed her belongings and shoved them back into her bag. “Harry, how quickly can we get to Bulgaria?”


	17. Chapter 17

"Bulgaria?" Harry grabbed Hermione's wrist to stop her frantic movements. "Why would Ron go to Bulgaria?"

She placed a pile of papers back on the table. "He read a letter Viktor sent me. Viktor thought he may have found a cure."

"A cure!"

"But I can't use it, Harry. It involves dark magic, so dark that Viktor would barely alluded to it in a letter."

"And you think Ron went to Bulgaria for this cure?"

"It's the only thing I can think of, especially if he's not on Auror business. And it sounds like something he would do, doesn't it?"

"Yes, it does." He released her wrist. "I can meet you at your flat in an hour. Can you be ready by then?"

She wanted to leave now, now before Ron did something stupid. But she understood that Harry needed to make some arrangements. She did as well. "Yes, I'll be ready."

"Good."

As he walked away, she resumed putting her belongings in her bag. She hoped that Viktor would be able to get Ron to see reason. But she knew how hard that could be.

* * * * *

Viktor paused after opening his door. "Vell, I vasn't expecting you."

"I bet," Ron replied.

"Herm-own-ninny's not coming?"

"No."

"I see." He studied the Auror for a long moment. "I don't tink she vill be happy vith you ven she finds out."

"Let me worry about that."

"Oh, I vill." He opened the door wider. "Come, ve have much to discuss."

* * * * *

Hermione fought back frustration as they were delayed again at another apparation checkpoint. Their fame, especially Harry's, would usually overcome any bureaucratic hurdle. But her magic-less status was what was causing the problem.

At first, the officials were not convinced that she was indeed Hermione Granger. Harry was offended by the implication that he was trying to smuggle a Muggle across borders but managed to keep his temper in check. But each formality, each delay frayed his temper a bit more.

Hermione tried to keep her temper in check as well. She had tried so hard to keep the exact nature of the curse from the public. She had no doubt that her return to being a Muggle would on the front page of the Daily Prophet in the morning if it hadn't already made the evening edition.

"It will be a moment," the latest official stated as she exited the room.

"How many more checkpoints do we have left, Harry?"

"Just one, but at this rate, we won't get to Bulgaria until Christmas."

She managed to laugh. "I think we'll manage to get there by tonight."

"What do you think Ron's doing right now?"

"I'm hoping he's frustrated because Viktor has told him nothing and is on his way back home."

Harry glanced at her. "You could have your magic back."

"But at what cost? This is Dark magic, Harry, very Dark magic."

"What is the cost? Do you even know?" She lowered her eyes, confirming his suspicions. "This isn't like you, Hermione. You usually have to know everything. Don't you want your magic back?"

"Of course, I do! You think I enjoy being a Muggle again? My parents are dead. There was nothing left in that world for me. I've have to start completely over."

"Then why not at least learn about this cure?"

"Stopping Dark magic is not easy. Reversing it take even more effort. Think of Neville's parents. Years of magical treatment hasn't been able to cure them."

Hermione hugged herself. "And I'm not even sure there is a cure. Viktor wrote there was a possibility but Malfoy had told Ron that he made sure there was no cure before he used it."

"And you believe him? Malfoy?"

Hermione was saved from answering by the return of the official.

* * * * *

Ron shook his head. "I don't read Bulgarian."

"It is Medieval Bulgarian."

"I definitely don't read Medieval Bulgarian."

"I did not tink so," Viktor said with a smile, irritating Ron. "Latrunculus is usually used to steal victim's life."

"Yes, I know that part." Ron tried to banish the image of a dying Hermione from his mind.

"It has been used to steal a person's sanity as vell. Tis is first time it has been used in tis manner that I have found."

'Leave it to Malfoy to be original with a curse,' Ron thought. "What about the cure?"

"It gets a bit fluffy."

"Fluffy?"

"Fluffy. It is not clear."

"Fuzzy."

"Ah, tank you. It is a bit fuzzy about a cure."

"Then why would you get Hermione's hopes up about a cure." Ron clenched his fists as he fought the urge to throttle Viktor. "I thought you liked her. I thought you were her friend."

"I am her friend. I vould not get her hopes up vithout cause. I said possibility of cure, not guarantee."

"I just want Hermione to get her magic back."

"And vhat vould you do for tat?"

"Whatever is necessary," Ron replied without hesitation.

"Are you certain?"

"Yes."

Viktor laid out another manuscript. "Tis is possible cure."


	18. Chapter 18

Hermione paid the cab as Harry lingered on the curb. It was nearly midnight and they had finally made it to the outskirts of Sofia, the capital of Bulgaria. Viktor's flat was on the third floor of the building behind her. She just hoped that they were in time to stop whatever madness Ron was planning.

“Nice American,” the cab driver said as he counted the tip. “Have good time.”

“Thank you.”

Harry watched the cab drive away. “American?”

“Well, his English is better than my Bulgarian.” She eyed the dark building. “Let's just hope that Viktor's still up.”

Harry's look indicated that he thought that was unlikely. She ignored it and entered the building. Harry followed behind her.

She glad that Viktor lived in a modest building. There was no doorman to demand who they were. Due to the late hour, the main floor was deserted.

It took her a moment to find the stairs, hidden in the back of the dim hall. They quickly arrived at the third floor. Viktor's flat was the last on the left.

Hermione's knock seemed deafeningly loud in the quiet hall. When there was no sound of movement from the flat, she knocked again. This time a grouchy voice called from inside.

“He doesn't sound happy,” Harry remarked, pulling out his wand.

“It is after midnight here, Harry.”

Viktor opened the door of his flat, still pulling on his shirt. “Herm-own-ninny? Vat are you doing here?”

“Is Ron still here, Viktor?”

“No, he has gone.”

“What did you tell him? Did you tell him about the cure?”

Viktor glanced down the hall. “Please come inside. Ve must discuss.”

“We don't have time for a chat,” Hermione snapped, surprising both Viktor and Harry. “We have to stop Ron before he does something stupid.”

“Tat is vhy ve must discuss.” He opened the door wider. “Please, Herm-own-ninny. Tere is time.”

She glanced at Harry, who returned her look. He was going to let her decide. “I hope you're right, Viktor.”

Harry followed her into the flat. Viktor closed the door with a soft thud. With a sigh, he joined his guests.

* * * * *

He squinted as he tried to make out Viktor's handwriting. Viktor had written out the necessary spells phonetically. But it was still a completely foreign tongue for Ron.

He had a few hours before the guards changed at Azkaban. He planned to be there just before the night shift ended. The exhausted night guards would be longing for their beds and probably wouldn't be too exact with protocol. While the Aurors would have noticed his absence by now, Ron hoped that they hadn't alerted the prison. But he had a plan if that had happened.

This was strategy. This was what he was good at.

Once he was sure of the incantation, he switched to practicing the wand movements. He pressed his lips tightly together to prevent himself from saying the words with the movements. He couldn't risk the words with the movement, risk ruining the spell. He wouldn't ruin Hermione's chance to get her magic back.

Hermione.

He wished that he could see her. But he knew that Shacklebolt would have eyes on her, hoping that his rogue Auror was just caught up in the whirlwind of a new relationship. But this wasn't some fling. Not for him.

He ran through his plan one more time. He accounted for different variables and devised ways to adjust if necessary. He checked his mission pack and his supplies, what little he needed. As a final precaution, he slipped Viktor's notes into his pocket.

As dawn broke with sunlight pouring into in the borrowed, empty flat, he was ready.

* * * * *

“Oh, Viktor,” Hermione sighed, shaking her head. “Why did you tell him all this?”

“Because he asked.”

Harry put the manuscript on the table. “But you had to know that he would be tempted to use it.”

“Yes, I knew.”

“How could you?” Hermione demanded. “You know that he will be arrested if he attempts this. And if he succeeds, he could go to Azkaban for life. If not worse! Do you hate him so much?”

“I do not hate Ron. I told him all tis because he asked. And he asked because he loves you.” Neither Harry nor Hermione seemed shocked by the statement. “He is grown man. And he is aware of consequences.”

“My magic is not worth this,” Hermione said, her quiet voice carrying in the quiet room.

“Ron does not see it tat vay,” Viktor replied.

“Hermione, if we leave now, we may get to Azkaban before Ron does.” Harry pushed his glasses up his nose, bringing his determined green eyes into sharp focus. “He would have needed time to get ready.”

“And what can we do when we get to Azkaban?” Hermione asked. “We aren't Aurors.”

“You are brightest vitch I have ever meet and he is Boy Who Lived. You vill tink of something. I have no doubt.” Viktor squeezed her shoulder. “But Harry is right. You must hurry if you vant to stop Ron.”

Hermione studied the Bulgarian for a moment before suddenly stretching up to kiss his cheek. “Thank you, Viktor.”

“Good luck, my friend.”

She crossed the lounge to Harry and took his hand. “Let's go.”

With a turn and a pop, the pair vanished.


	19. Chapter 19

Ron eyed the monstrous prison. It always made him want to shudder, even when he wasn't inside its walls. He straightened his robes and headed to the main gates.

“State your name and business,” a guard ordered when he noticed Ron's approach.

“Auror Ronald Weasley.” He showed the guard his badge. “I'm here to question the prisoner Draco Malfoy.”

“Malfoy? He's to be Kissed in a few hours. What do you want with him now?”

“Auror business.”

The guard grumbled under his breath but Ron did not catch the words. “Will you need an escort, Auror Weasley?”

“No, I can find my way.”

“Very well. Please check back here when you have concluded your business.”

“I will.” Ron nodded to the other guards as he made his way into Azkaban.

* * * * *

Seamus Finnigan grumbled as a loud knocking echoed throughout his flat. He wearily looked at his clock, which informed him it was just after five o'clock in the morning. “Someone had better be dying.”

Two arms wrapped around his waist, attempting to pull him back to bed. Lavender pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “Maybe if you will ignore them, they will go away.”

Another set of knocks refuted her theory.

“I'd best see who it is, love.” He reluctantly pulled her arms away from him. Behind him, Lavender sighed and rolled over.

He quickly threw on a pair of pants and was still trying to put on a shirt when he reached the door. He glanced through the peephole. He was shocked at the identity of his visitors. He threw the door open before Hermione could knock again.

“Bloodly hell, it's five o'clock in the morning, Hermione. This had better be important.”

“Hermione Granger?” Lavender called from the bedroom. A moment later she appeared dressed in a modest dressing gown. “And Harry Potter? What's going on?”

“I think I know where Ron is,” Hermione said.

“Great,” Seamus said around a yawn. “Owl Shacklebolt. He'll be relieved once he's done being angry.”

“We think Ron's in trouble,” Harry explained. “We need your help.”

“We need an Auror,” Hermione added.

Seamus felt dread building in his stomach. So much for his lie-in with Lavender. “What kind of trouble do you think he's in?”

“This doesn't go beyond us,” Hermione said, looking pointedly at Lavender.

“I can keep a secret,” the other woman huffed as she sat on a sofa.

“She will,” Seamus vouched. “Let's get it out. What is Ron up to?”

“There may be a cure for Malfoy's curse,” Hermione began, “and we're afraid that he is going to use it.”

* * * * *

Draco Malfoy looked like hell.

His pale blond hair was matted in places and was filthly. His eyes were sunken in. The visible bones of his wrist and hands above the metal cuffs of his chains further attested to his poor nutrition.

'Good,' Ron thought as he surveyed the prisoner. 'He should suffer. Suffer that and more.'

Malfoy lifted his head and eyed his visitor. “Ah, Weasel,” he rasped. “One last visit before the Dementors.”

Ron knelt until he was eye-level with the other man. “Well, you only have a few hours left, Malfoy. Wanted to see if you were ready to give us the cure for the spell you used on Hermione.”

Malfoy laughed. “You are truly stupid. I've told you: there is no cure for your precious Mudblood. I made sure of that before I used it. She's a Muggle like she should be.”

“Ah, but there's where you're wrong, Ferret. There is a cure.” Ron grinned as fear grew in Malfoy's eyes. “See the Dark wizard who created the curse also created a counter-curse. He wanted to be sure there was some way to counteract such powerful magic.”

“You're lying.”

Ron opened his pack and began setting out his supplies. “The counter-curse isn't in English so it took some time for it to be found. Luckily, some of Hermione's friends found it.”

“What kind of friends can a Mudblood have?”

“More than you have at the moment, Malfoy,” Ron said evenly. He dipped his wand into a vial of dark, thick liquid that looked like dried blood. He then moved his wand toward Malfoy's face.

“What are you doing!” Malfoy demanded, jerking his head back.

Ron fisted his hand in Malfoy's hair, using the pain to hold the other man still. “I'm performing the counter-curse. I'm going to rob you of your Magic just like you robbed Hermione of hers.” He drew a symbol on Malfoy's forehead. “It may also take other things like your life or your sanity. The manuscripts weren't exactly clear on that.”

“You can't do this!”

Ron opened the prisoner's shirt, baring his thin chest. Methodically Ron drew the required symbol over Malfoy's heart. “You're going to be Kissed regardless of what I do. At least you can make amends for what you have done.”

“They'll throw you in here for what you are doing!”

“Maybe. If they ever find out.” Ron stepped back to study the symbols. Satisfied, he pulled out his notes to review the incantation one more time. “I'm willing to take that chance.”

* * * * *

“Why, yes, Auror Weasley just went to see the prisoner. Stated that he had Auror business before the prisoner is to be Kissed.”

Seamus nodded. “Thank you. We'll go catch up with him.”

“But, sir, the civilians.” The guard looked pointedly at Harry and Hermione. “They're not allowed.”

“Surely you're aware of the prisoner's crimes against Ms. Granger and her family.” The guard nodded. “The Aurors are allowing her to view the Dementor's Kiss so she can be assured that justice has been done.”

“This is most irregular,” the guard grumbled.

“We live in strange times, mate,” Seamus agreed. Harry and Hermione quickly followed Seamus into the prison before the guard could change his mind.

* * * * *

“It's time,” Ron announced, interrupting Malfoy's latest outburst. The prisoner's cries for help and screaming curses had been ignored. For the other guards, he was just another person being broken by Azkaban.

The Auror put away his notes. He raised his wand to begin the incantation but stopped when there was a commotion outside the cell. Malfoy began calling for help. Ron quickly cast a silencing spell. As his voice faded into nothing, Malfoy thrashed harder against his chains.

Ron assumed a professional air. But it quickly faded as Hermione entered the cell. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask the same of you,” Hermione replied. She gestured for Harry and Seamus to stay outside. The other Auror glared at Ron but closed the cell door.

Hermione glanced at Malfoy. He was still screaming despite his voice. He did not look like he had been hit with the counter-curse. She was glad, though it for Ron's sake.

“Ron, please, don't do this.”

“You can have your magic back! You can be a witch again!” He turned and glared at Malfoy. “And he needs to pay for what he did to you and your family.”

She touched his arm, bringing his attention back to her. “He will, Ron. He's going to be Kissed.” She trailed her hand down his arm to his hand. She squeezed it. “That is enough for me.”

“But your magic, Hermione,” Ron protested.

“I'd rather have you than my magic, Ron.” She glanced at their joined hands. “I can live without magic. I don't want to live without you.”

“Hermione.” His voice broke on her her name. “Are you sure?”

She nodded. “I'm sure.”

“Okay.” He moved toward the door but she stopped him with a tug of their hands. “What?”

“Take the spell off of him, Ron.”

For a moment he looked like he was going to argue. Then he pulled out his wand. A quick Scourgify removed the marks from Malfoy's forehead and chest.

“And the other one, too.”

With a sigh, he reversed the silencing spell. Malfoy immediately began cursing them and pulling at his chains. However, he cowered back when Ron advanced with his wand.

“Enjoy your Kiss, Malfoy.”

With that, he and Hermione left the cell and left Malfoy to his fate.


	20. Chapter 20

Hermione sighed and rubbed her eyes. She had been reading and editing a draft of Alan's thesis for the past few hours and was only halfway through the paper. While she was enjoying his ideas about magic in Medieval Bulgaria, she doubt that his thesis committee would share that enthusiasm.

“You've been reading for hours, Professor Granger,” Ron said as he joined her on the couch. He pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I think you're due for a break.”

She dropped her pen onto Alan's thesis with a smile and curled up next to her boyfriend. “And what did you have in mind, Mr. Weasley?”

For his unapproved absence from the Aurors, Ron had been placed on unpaid leaved for a month. He had accepted the punishment without complaint. Hermione was glad that it hadn't been more.

They had spent most of his leave together. She had taken him to a Muggle movie while he had planned a wonderful weekend in Hogsmeade. She was sad that this time was ending but she knew that he was eager to get back to work.

And their transition from friends to couple had been practically seamless. They still rowed but it was with far less regularity. Harry had commented that they both seemed happier. She had to agree.

“Mum has invited us to dinner,” Ron said, bringing her thoughts back to the present. “Harry and Ginny will be there with Emma.”

“That sounds wonderful. We haven't seen your parents in a while and it always great to see Harry, Ginny and the baby. I'll go and freshen up before we have to leave.”

Hermione gave him a brief kiss. She laughed when he tried to prolong it. “If we keep snogging on the couch, we'll be late for dinner.”

“I'm sure that Harry and Ginny will understand,” he murmured against her neck as he pressed a kiss behind her ear.

“You'll also have to explain to your Mum.” She tried to sound stern but failed. As he kissed his way along her jaw, she sighed in contentment.

“We can always stay in.”

“We do have to eat at some point, Ron.” His stomach growled as if to agree with her. “Besides, I don't want to disappoint your Mum.”

He gave her one last kiss and then released her. “Go get ready and I'll owl Mum.”

* * * * *

Molly Weasley had cooked enough food to feed an army. Of course, when her children and their families gathered around the table, it did look like an redheaded invasion. Hermione found herself between Ron and Fleur and across from Ginny. The two sisters-in-law were exchanging childcare advice.

“It's so good to have everyone over for dinner,” Molly sighed. “It gets so quiet at the Borrow now.”

“I thought that you'd enjoy a bit of peace and quiet, Mum,” Bill replied, “after all those years of noise and chaos.”

“Guess I've grown use to it, dear. Though Arthur and I always enjoy when you and the other bring the grandchildren for a visit.” Her gaze fell on Hermione. “And maybe there will be some new babies at the Burrow soon.”

Hermione felt her face flush. She was saved from answering by Charlie asking her her opinion on a point of Wizarding law about dragons. The discussion then moved to the practical uses of dragons, leading Bill and Charlie to debate the use of dragons in Wizarding banks.

Soon Harry was asked to recount facing his dragon in the Triwizard Tournament. The conversation drifted to Quidditch, the newest Minister of Magic and Ron's return to work. Hermione watched happily as some of her favorite people share a meal. While she would always miss her parents, the Weasleys had become her second family.

Ron glanced at her with a worried frown. She had been quiet for a long time. “Everything okay?” he asked her softly. “Do you want to go?”

“No, I'm having a great time,” she answered with a smile. “Really.”

She made more of an effort to stay in the conversation and Ron relaxed. She smiled when his hand found hers under the table. It seemed so natural now.

Dinner eventually began winding down. Bill and Fleur left first as it was approaching their children's bedtime. A fussy Emma had Harry and Ginny leaving soon after. Percy and the twins went home as well.

Hermione stayed to help Mrs. Weasley clear the table. With a flick of her wand, Mrs. Weasley soon had the dishes washing. Hermione volunteered to wipe down the table but Ron was at her elbow, suggesting they take a walk outside. Mrs. Weasley practically chased them out the back door, refusing to let Hermione help clean up any further.

She let Ron lead her past the garden toward the pond. The night was clear and the half moon provided enough light for them to find their way. As they drifted further from the Burrow, they seemed like the only two people in the world.

“It's so peaceful out here,” she said. “It's so much quieter than London.”

Ron chuckled. “That's probably due to the fact that the twins no longer live here.”

“True,” she agreed. “Though I think your Mum is missing their chaos now.”

“Oh, I think Bill and Fleur's girls will more than make up for it.”

Hermione laughed. “Merlin help me if our children turn out like that.”

As soon as she said it, she wished she could take those words back. Ron went absolutely still, staring at her in shock. She pulled her hand from his and turned away, facing the pond. “Forget I said that.”

She flinched when Ron placed a hand on her shoulder. “Do you think about us having kids, Hermione?” he asked quietly.

“Ron, please, can't we forget about it?” While it felt like it had been forever, they had only been a couple for a few weeks. She didn't want to pressure him. She didn't want to mess this up.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and gently pulled her back against his chest. “No. I want to know.”

She gave a frustrated sigh, debating about what answer to give. She finally settled for honestly. “Yes. Sometimes.”

His arms tightened around her waist, hugging her closer to him. “Good,” he said finally. “Whenever I think about the future, I try to picture our kids, too.”

She turned in his arms so she could face him. Her surprise must have been evident on her face. He gave her an amused grin and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “Are you really that surprised, Hermione?”

“I-I don't know,” she stammered.

“I love you. It's always been you.”

She blinked back tears as she smiled up at him. “I love you, too, Ron.”

She could sense a change in their kiss. It now held a sense of promise. As Ron urged her closer to his chest, Hermione absently wondered if someone could truly die of happiness.

When they broke apart for air, Hermione laid her head on his chest, savoring the moment. Ron pressed a kiss into her hair. They held each other, listening to the frogs' serenade.

“Mum is probably wondering what's keeping us,” Ron said a while later.

Hermione giggled. “Oh, I'm sure she has a pretty good idea of what we're doing.”

Ron grinned. “Yeah, you're probably right.”

“But we should head back anyway.”

He reluctantly released her but kept one of her hands in his. “Okay. Let's go home.”

The End


End file.
